THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


ROBERT    FRANK 


ROBERT  FRANK 

BY 

SIGURD   IBSEN 


TRANSLATED    FROM    THE    NORWEGIAN 
BY 

MARCIA    HARGIS    JANSON 


AUTHORIZED    TRANSLATION 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
1914 


COPYRIGHT,  rgi4,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published  October,  1914 


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Sqso 


CHARACTERS 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

LEVINSKI. 

WINKELMANN. 

PRETORIUS. 

ULVELING. 

BLIX. 

AN  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

A  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

A  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

THE  AMBASSADRESS. 

THE  DUCHESS. 

THE  COUNTESS. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 

AN  OFFICER. 

A  JANITOR. 

THE  SYNDICALISTS. 


192SS13 


ROBERT    FRANK 


ROBERT   FRANK 
FIRST  ACT 

A  drawing-room  in  the  American  Embassy.  The  ceiling 
decorated  with  frescoes,  the  walls  covered  with  Gobelins. 
Gilded  furniture,  upholstered  in  silk.  In  the  centre  of  the 
room  an  enormous  table  in  rococo  style.  At  the  left  a  door 
to  the  adjacent  room,  at  the  right  windows  with  drawn 
curtains. 

In  the  background  columns  support  a  wide  opening 
through  which  one  sees  into  a  promenade  hall,  where  men 
and  women  in  evening  dress  are  moving  about. 

The  ballroom  adjoins  the  promenade  hall  but  is  so  far 
away  that  the  orchestra  can  be  heard  only  very  faintly. 

In  the  foreground  at  the  right  an  old  gentleman  is  sitting 
talking  to  two  others,  one  middle-aged,  the  other  young. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

The  little  Tanagra  figure  ?  No,  I  did  not  get  it.  When 
I  came  back  to  the  art  dealer's  it  had  been  sold.  To 
Mrs.  Hunter,  of  course. 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 
To  Mrs.  Hunter  ?     She  did  not  tell  me  that. 


4  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

These  rich  Americans  are  insatiable.  As  soon  as  they 
hear  of  anything  rare  they  will  have  it,  no  matter  what  it 
is.  Look  at  that  table  top  over  there,  for  example. 
Made  of  one  enormous  block  of  malachite.  One  must  go 
to  Russia  to  find  anything  like  it. 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

The  table,  however,  came  from  Paris.  I  was  with  the 
ambassadress  myself  when  she  bought  it  at  the  Hotel 
Drouot.  Both  it  and  the  Flemish  tapestries  that  hang 
here  on  the  walls. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

It  is  true  they  do  say  that  you  have  stood  sponsor  for 
the  entire  establishment  here. 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

Too  much  honor.  But  Mrs.  Hunter  sometimes  takes  me 
with  her  for  advice  when  it  is  a  matter  of  furniture  or 
works  of  art. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

It  is  wise  of  her  to  do  so,  isn't  it?  Money  they  have 
in  abundance,  the  good  Americans,  but  as  to  what  they 
shall  use  it  for  they  certainly  have  little  judgment. 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

I  am  really  not  so  certain  of  that.  To  be  sure,  as  re- 
gards the  ambassador,  his  interests  scarcely  lie  in  the 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  5 

domain   of   aesthetics.     Though   otherwise,    he   must    be 
acknowledged  to  be  an  eminent  man.  .  .  . 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Heaven  help  us,  I  know  that  well  enough — he  was  one 
of  Chicago's  most  distinguished  pork  butchers. 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

He  retired  from  business  long  ago.  And  as  to  Mrs. 
Hunter,  I  can  inform  you  that  she  belongs  to  a  good  and 
old  family. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 
At  least,  she  says  so  herself. 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

I  have  heard  it  from  others  also.  I  knew  the  Hunters 
in  Washington — even  at  that  time  they  lived  in  magnifi- 
cent style.  The  whole  diplomatic  corps  was  often  to  be 
seen  in  their  house. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

All  that  does  not  prevent  Mrs.  Hunter  from  occasion- 
ally permitting  herself  to  fail  in  the  tact  that  one  ought  to 
demand  of  an  ambassadress.  You  remember  the  story 
of  the  pearls  the  other  night. 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

Yes,  the  pearl  story  was  a  rather  unpleasant  affair; 
that  I  do  not  deny.  If  only  Mrs.  Hunter  had  asked  my 
opinion  before  she  gave  her  fancy-dress  ball. 


6  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

I  am  sure  that  that  tactless  idea  would  never  have  come 
to  anything  if  her  niece  had  been  here  then.  The  ambassa- 
dress would  simply  have  not  been  permitted.  .  .  . 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Her  niece — whom  do  you  mean?  Oh,  now  I  under- 
stand— the  young  brunette  to  whom  Mrs.  Hunter  intro- 
duced me  this  evening.  Yes,  she  looks  as  though  there 
were  race  in  her.  What  is  her  name —  I  do  not  remem- 
ber it.  ... 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 
Miss  Cameron. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Quite  right — Miss  Cameron.  It  certainly  looks  as  if  you 
were  very  much  interested  in  her.  I  stood  and  watched 
you  a  little  while  ago  when  you  engaged  her  for  a  waltz. 
Yes,  yes,  she  is  a  charming  goldfish,  that  we  must  grant. 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

No,  she  cannot  be  called  a  goldfish.  She  is  not  at  all 
rich. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

At  any  rate,  she  dances  to  perfection.  And  is  as  grace- 
ful as  an  Undine.  .  .  .  Strange,  I  have  not  met  her 
before. 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  7 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

No,  she  just  arrived  in  town  day  before  yesterday.  She 
has  come  on  account  of  all  this  commotion  about  the 
syndicalists. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

What  is  it  you  are  saying?  What  has  she  got  to  do 
with  that  ? 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

She  represents  a  big  New  York  newspaper.  The  regu- 
lar correspondent  here  became  ill  and  Miss  Cameron  un- 
dertook to  act  as  his  substitute.  She  is  a  trained  journal- 
ist. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Well,  I  never  heard  anything  to  equal  that.  A  young 
girl,  who  can  hardly  be  twenty-five  years  old  and  who  is  a 
political  correspondent !  Why,  it  is  a  perfect  little  mon- 
strosity! .  .  .  And  she  is  perhaps  living  right  here  in 
the  embassy? 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

Yes,  but  that  is  quite  natural,  as  the  ambassadress  is 
her  aunt. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Natural?  I  call  it  improper.  I  must  really  ask:  what 
is  the  ambassador  about?  Even  a  man  from  Chicago 
ought  to  know  that  a  newspaper  office  cannot  be  installed 


8  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

in  an  embassy.     Least  of  all,  if  it  is  one  that  meddles  with 
politics. 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

It  does  not  follow  that  Miss  Cameron  will  indulge  in 
the  expression  of  her  political  opinions.  From  what  I 
know  of  American  newspaper  methods,  she  will  be  con- 
cerned chiefly  with  reporting.  .  .  .  But,  of  course,  it  is 
another  matter  whether  or  not  it  is  a  wise  thing  to  send 
a  young  woman  here  when  a  revolution  is  brewing.  .  .  . 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 
Revolution — I  would  not  use  such  a  strong  word. 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

However,  what  happened  this  afternoon  seems  to  indi- 
cate that  the  government  is  prepared  for  the  worst. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

The  scene  in  Parliament.  Oh,  yes.  Were  you  present 
when  it  took  place? 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

Yes,  and  most  of  the  diplomats  made  their  appearance. 
But  I  noticed  that  your  Excellency  was  absent.  .  .  . 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

I  spent  the  afternoon  in  a  much  more  agreeable  way — I 
had  tea  with  a  charming  little  friend.  .  .  .  Besides,  I 
had  no  idea  that  a  coup  de  th&dtre  was  imminent. 


ACT  i  ROBERT    FRANK  9 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

Nor  we  others.  But  an  important  political  debate  had 
been  announced  in  a  special  order  of  the  day  and  partici- 
pation of  party  leaders  and  weighty  statements  from  the 
government  bench.  So  the  hall  was  quite  full,  not  a  vacant 
place  either  in  the  boxes  or  in  the  gallery.  A  number  of 
society  women  were  there,  too.  .  .  . 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

There  is  always  an  exhibition  of  ladies'  hats  on  such  an 
occasion.  But  then  what  happened  next? 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

There  really  is  not  much  to  tell,  for  the  whole  thing 
lasted  hardly  five  minutes.  .  .  .  The  President  rings  his 
bell:  the  sitting  is  declared  open,  the  Prime  Minister  has 
the  floor.  Frank  rises,  opens  his  portfolio,  takes  out  a 
document,  and  reads.  The  listeners  hardly  believe  their 
own  ears — it  is  a  declaration  that  Parliament  is  adjourned 
indefinitely.  When  he  finished  reading,  it  was  quite  still 
for  a  moment.  .  .  . 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 
But  afterward  there  was  a  disturbance  I  fancy. 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

Not  exactly  a  disturbance,  but  a  buzzing  of  voices 
down  in  the  hall,  a  running  back  and  forth  like  ants  in  an 


10  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

ant-hill.  ...    All  were  perplexed,  the  ministerialists  not 
less  so  than  others. 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

The  government  had  not  warned  a  soul.  Not  even  its 
factotum,  Pretorius. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Frank,  as  a  rule,  I  do  not  number  among  my  favorites, 
but  it  does  amuse  me  to  hear  that  he  put  these  blustering 
parliamenteers  out  of  the  game. 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT. 

The  question  is  whether  or  not  he  can  master  the  gen- 
eral strike  when  it  breaks  out.  The  syndicalists  are  said 
to  be  perfectly  desperate.  Blood  will  certainly  be  shed. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

At  any  rate,  we  can  expect  a  lively  time.  .  .  .  Excuse 
me,  gentlemen,  I  see  some  one  to  whom  I  must  go  and  pay 
my  respects.  (He  rises  and  goes  toward  two  young  women 
who  have  seated  themselves  at  the  left.) 

THE  MIDDLE-AGED  DIPLOMAT  (to  the  young  DIPLOMAT). 
Don't  you  think  we  should  move  about  a  little?  .  .  . 
(They  go  out  into  the  promenade  hall.) 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT  (who  has  now  approached  the  ladies). 

Allow  me,  ladies,  to  express  my  pleasure  at  meeting  you 

here — Juno  and  Venus  in  lovely  union. . . .  (He  siis  down.) 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  11 

THE  DUCHESS. 

I  suppose  I  am  Juno  and  Dolly  Venus.  .  .  .  Thanks 
for  the  mythological  compliment. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Gracious  Duchess,  I  know  well  that  mythological  figur- 
ativeness  is  old-fashioned.  But  I  am  a  very  old  man, 
and  in  my  youth. .  .  . 

THE  COUNTESS. 

You  are  not  at  all  old.  Just  recently  some  one  guessed 
that  you  were  seventy-five,  and  do  you  know  what  I  re- 
plied? "Not  seventy-five,  but  three  times  twenty -five." 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Amiable  Countess,  how  you  come  back  to  me  in  that 
remark!  You  may  believe,  I  have  thirsted  for  your 
"esprit"  during  the  time  you  have  been  down  in  Cairo. 
So  imagine  my  delight  when  I  heard  this  evening  that 
you  were  with  us  once  more. 

THE  COUNTESS. 

You  are  really  too  touching.  And,  of  course,  I  am  glad, 
too,  to  see  familiar  faces  about  me.  But,  nevertheless,  I 
almost  regret  having  come  back. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 
You  regret  it  ? 


12  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

THE  COUNTESS. 

Yes,  for  I  think  the  town  has  become  so  unpleasant 
since  I  was  here.  It  is  as  though  there  were  something 
threatening  in  the  air.  .  .  . 

THE  DUCHESS. 

Ferdinand  and  I  do  not  like  being  here,  either.  We  are 
thinking  somewhat  of  closing  the  house  and  going  down 
to  the  Riviera.  .  .  .  Just  fancy,  when  we  drove  here  they 
threw  stones  at  the  carriage  and  a  window  was  broken. 

THE  COUNTESS. 

And  did  you  notice  what  a  crowd  of  ragged  individuals 
stood  outside  of  the  entrance  here?  When  I  got  out  a  ter- 
rible creature  ran  into  the  vestibule  and  said  something 
ugly  to  me,  so  ugly  that  it  cannot  be  repeated.  .  .  . 

THE  DUCHESS. 

I  wonder  if  it  would  not  have  been  wiser  to  have  sent 
our  excuses  and  stayed  away.  My  maid  warned  me 
when  she  was  doing  my  hair.  She  said  that  there  had 
been  something  in  a  paper  called  "The  Proletariat." 

THE  COUNTESS. 
But  Fanny — does  your  maid  read  such  papers  ? 

THE  DUCHESS. 

Not  she — I  would  never  allow  that.  But  you  know 
such  people  hear  so  much.  .  .  .  Anyhow,  the  paper 


ACT  i  ROBERT    FRANK  13 

to-day  has  an  article  called  the  "Pearl-Queen,"  which,  of 
course,  is  aimed  at  Mrs.  Hunter.  .  .  . 

THE  COUNTESS. 

Mrs.  Hunter — the  "Pearl-Queen"?  To  what  are  you 
referring  ? 

THE  DUCHESS. 

Oh,  that  is  true,  you  were  away.  But  I  thought  I  had 
written  you.  .  .  .  Oh,  but  you  must  hear.  ...  A  few 
weeks  ago  the  Hunters  gave  a  big  costume  ball.  We  were 
all  to  come  in  eighteenth-century  toilets.  It  was  to  rep- 
resent a  court  ball  at  Versailles. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Where  Mr.  Hunter,  from  Chicago,  made  his  appearance 
as  Louis  the  Fifteenth.  .  .  . 

THE  COUNTESS. 

And  Mrs.  Hunter?  Which  of  the  mistresses  was  she 
— Pompadour  or  Du  Barry  ? 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

She  was  no  other  than  the  legitimate  queen,  Maria 
Lesczynska.  .  .  .  She  and  her  royal  spouse  had  prac- 
tised a  minuet,  with  which  they  opened  the  ball.  It  was 
a  sight  for  the  gods. 


14  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

THE  DUCHESS. 

The  minuet  secured  flatteries  enough  for  them.  ...  It 
is  really  repulsive — the  way  these  people  are  courted  on 
all  sides,  even  by  people  who  have  not  the  least  need  of 
them — either  of  them  or  of  their  money  bags. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Yes,  it  is  curious  to  see  how  most  people  act  when 
confronted  by  a  multimillionaire.  Exactly  like  waiters. 
And  they  don't  even  do  it  for  the  sake  of  tips.  .  .  .  They 
humble  themselves  gratis;  their  dance  around  the  golden 
calf  is  quite  disinterested. 

THE  DUCHESS. 
But  why  on  earth  do  they  do  it  then  ? 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

I  presume  that  it  is  a  form  of  piety.  That  their  adora- 
tion of  Mammon  is  something  similar  to  the  old  sun- 
worship. 

THE  DUCHESS. 

A  very  profound  explanation.  I  did  not  know  that  you 
had  such  philosophical  tendencies.  .  .  .  But  we  have  en- 
tirely got  away  from  what  we  were  telling  Dolly.  .  .  . 
Well !  The  invitation  to  the  costume  ball  requested  the 
ladies  to  wear  no  jewels  except  pearls.  So  we,  suspecting 
no  mischief,  decked  ourselves  out  in  everything  we  owned 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  15 

of  the  sort.     And  as  regards  myself,  I  certainly  thought 
that  my  pearls  were  presentable.  .  .  . 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Your  pearls  are  one  of  the  sights  that  are  worth  seeing, 
dear  Duchess. 

THE  DUCHESS. 

Then  what  do  you  say  of  Mrs.  Hunter's  jewels?  Do 
you  remember  the  sight  that  met  us,  when  she  received 
us  in  the  blue  drawing-room  ? 

THE  COUNTESS. 
Was  it  so  overwhelming  ? 

THE  DUCHESS. 

You  cannot  imagine  how  she  had  rigged  herself  out  that 
evening.  Her  gown  was  entirely  covered  by  a  tunic  made 
of  small  pearls,  and  in  addition  there  were  ropes  of  pearls 
about  the  corsage  and  hips.  And  in  her  ears  she  had 
pearls  as  big  as  hazelnuts.  And  around  her  neck  a  pearl 
collar  of  no  less  than  twelve  rows.  And  on  her  head  a 
tiara  of  five  enormous  pearls,  those  that  are  shaped  like 
pears.  I  simply  had  a  nervous  shock,  and  I  was  not  the 
only  one.  Of  course,  the  evening  was  spoiled  for  us 
women. 

THE  COUNTESS. 

And  I  must  say  it  was  a  strange  lack  of  tact  for  her  to 
strive  to  surpass  her  guests  in  that  way. 


16  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

THE  DUCHESS. 

Humble  us,  crush  us,  that  is  what  she  imagined  she 
could  do. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

No,  I  don't  attribute  such  spiteful  designs  to  her.  She 
really  gives  the  impression  of  being  a  good-natured  soul. 
Just  so  blessedly  stupid,  so  incurably  tactless. 

THE  DUCHESS. 

At  any  rate,  she  is  not  so  stupid  but  that  she  can  ad- 
vertise herself.  As  usual,  she  had  also  invited  the  re- 
porters and  she  must  needs  inform  them  what  the  pearls 
were  worth.  I  don't  remember  now  how  many  millions, 
but  it  was  in  all  the  papers  the  next  day. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Yes,  and  hi  the  Socialist  papers,  too.  And  they  have 
not  dropped  the  subject  yet,  but  have  taken  note  of  the 
Pearl-Queen  and  her  imitation  Versailles.  Their  leader, 
Levinski,  has  written  a  flaming  article  about  it — we  are 
all  to  be  swept  away  like  the  ancien  regime  in  its  day, 
both  you,  ladies,  and  Mrs.  Hunter  and  I  and  all  the  other 
parasitic  creatures.  The  new  revolution  is  going  to  make 
an  end  of  us. 

THE  COUNTESS. 
Must  there  really  be  a  revolution  ? 


ACT  i  ROBERT    FRANK  17 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

I  have  not  any  desire  to  undertake  to  play  the  prophet. 
But  if  it  comes,  then  I  will  gladly  lay  my  head  on  the 
guillotine — on  one  condition,  however. 

THE  COUNTESS. 
And  that  is  ? 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

That  I  can  count  on  your  solacing  company  on  the  way 
to  the  scaffold. 

THE  COUNTESS. 

So  I  am  to  go,  too,  and  let  my  head  be  cut  off,  just  to 
keep  you  company.  I  must  say  that  is  the  acme  of  egoism. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 
But  an  egoism  that  springs  from  love. 

THE  COUNTESS. 
Oh,  you,  with  your  declarations  of  love. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

You  ought  not  to  make  light  of  them.  My  love  has 
rather  something  tragic  about  it.  Imagine  a  singer  whose 
voice  fails  him,  while  his  spirit  and  longing  are  as  mighty 
as  before.  .  .  . 

THE  COUNTESS. 
Your  voice  has  doubtless  covered  several  octaves. 


18  ROBERT    FRANK  ACTI 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

I  make  bold  to  say  that  it  has  had  an  unusual  range. 
And  even  to  this  very  day — j'ai  de  beaux  restes.  .  .  .  You 
doubt?  I  see  it  on  your  face.  You  suspect  that  I  can 
sing  only  falsetto  .  .  .  like  the  singers  in  the  Sistine 
chapel.  .  .  . 

THE  COUNTESS. 

You  are  and  always  will  be  incorrigible. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Don't  try  to  hide  your  lovely  face  behind  your  fan.  I 
am  well  aware  that  a  knowing  smile  ripples  on  your  rosy 
lips,  that  your  starlike  eyes  are  dancing  with  roguish 
naughtiness. 

THE  COUNTESS. 

I  am  not  going  to  listen  to  you  any  more,  mauvais  sujet 
that  you  are.  Now  be  off  with  you,  and  I  hope  you  feel 
ashamed  of  yourself. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

I  obey  but  intend  to  pay  you  a  visit  soon.  When  may 
one  hope  to  find  you  at  home  ? 

THE  COUNTESS. 

Just  as  before.  I  receive  every  Thursday  from  five  to 
seven. 

THE  OLD  DIPLOMAT. 

Thursday,  then  .  .  .  Gracious  Duchess !  (He  bows  and 
goes  out  into  the  promenade  hall.) 


ACT  i  ROBERT    FRANK  19 

THE  DUCHESS. 

Thank  Heaven,  we  are  rid  of  him,  the  old  monkey!  ,  .  . 
But  let  us  go  sit  some  place  else — we  shall  be  disturbed 
here  continually.  .  .  . 

THE  COUNTESS. 

Yes,  let  us.  Dearest  Fanny,  I  have  a  thousand  things 
to  tell  you  about  my  trip.  .  .  .  (They  go  out  at  the  left. 
At  the  same  time  ULVELING  comes  in  from  the  promenade 
hall  and  Bux/rom  the  adjoining  drawing-room.  They  meet 
and  remain  standing  by  the  large  rococo  table.) 

ULVELING. 

What !  You  here,  too,  Blix  ?  I  thought  you  would  be 
sitting  in  your  office  racking  your  brains  over  your  editorial. 

BLIX. 

Yes,  that  editorial  could  easily  cause  some  brain-rack- 
ing. The  evening  papers  are  at  their  wits'  end.  Fortu- 
nately, we  don't  appear  until  morning  and,  if  I  can  just 
get  the  Prime  Minister  to  talk.  .  .  .  He  is  not  here  yet, 
but  has  promised  to  put  in  his  appearance. 

ULVELING. 

The  Prime  Minister  at  a  ball !  At  such  a  moment  as 
this !  While  all  we  other  political  people  are  fairly 
crushed  by  the  seriousness  of  the  situation  !  It's  improper, 
it's  unparalleled  cynicism. 


20  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

BLIX. 

But  you  yourself  are  here  at  the  ball,  Herr  Ulveling, 
and  I  see  that  several  of  your  colleagues  are  present,  too. 

ULVELING. 

It  is  quite  a  different  affair  for  me  to  be  here.  I  am  a 
common  representative  of  the  people,  to  whom  no  one 
has  thought  of  intrusting  the  weighty  affairs  of  govern- 
ment. 

BLIX. 

However,  it  was  once  said  that  Frank  was  going  to  ad- 
mit you  to  his  cabinet. 

ULVELING. 

When  it  came  to  the  point,  doubtless  I  was  not  found 
to  be  sufficiently  submissive.  That  man  does  not  want  co- 
workers  in  his  ministry;  he  wants  only  tools  and  nodding 
manikins. 

BLIX. 

Oh,  he  estimates  you  highly  anyhow.  You  have  cer- 
tainly always  been  a  reliable  member  of  the  ministerial 
"block." 

ULVELING. 

Ha!  Ha!  The  ministerial  "block"!  A  block  that  is 
constantly  in  a  state  of  fluidity.  Can  you  tell  me  offhand 
how  often  it  has  undergone  transformation  in  the  last 
year?  It  is  all  the  same  to  him  what  groups  it  is  com- 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  21 

posed  of — he  uses  them  in  turn,  exactly  as  a  man  changes 
his  shirt.  ...    But  do  you  know  what  I  think  ? 

BLIX. 

What? 

ULVELING. 

I  believe  that  he  is  at  heart  a  revolutionary.  In  spite 
of  position  and  orders  and  imperious  manner.  A  dis- 
guised Jacobin.  Remember !  He  made  his  first  appear- 
ance as  a  socialist. 

BLIX. 
That  was  in  the  greenness  of  his  youth. 

ULVELING. 

But  he  is  still  comparatively  young.  At  least  not  old 
enough  to  have  forgotten  his  first  love.  And  I  dare  say 
he  will  turn  back  to  it.  This  profit-sharing  law  for  the 
workmen  that  he  has  tried  with  all  his  might  to  force  on 
Parliament — do  you  maintain  that  that  will  not  lead  us 
into  the  purest  socialism  ? 

BLIX. 

Of  course,  you  know  my  point  of  view.  I  haven't  cared 
to  attack  it — nor  defend  it,  either. 

ULVELING. 

But  this  time  he  has  drawn  his  bow  too  taut.  First 
this  mad  proposal  and  now  the  challenge  he  has  thrown  in 


22  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

our  faces  to-day.     Look  here,  don't  you  think  it  about 
time  that  we  should  manage  to  get  him  out  of  the  way  ? 

BLIX. 

Now !  In  the  midst  of  this  muddle  that  is  getting  worse 
every  day  ?  Who  on  earth  would  be  willing  to  undertake 
to  form  a  government  under  such  circumstances  ? 

ULVELING. 

Oh,  not  right  away.  But  later,  when  the  difficulties 
of  the  situation  become  too  much  for  him  to  manage. 
That  will  be  the  moment  to  throttle  him.  It  is  simply 
our  moral  duty,  for  the  man  is  undoubtedly  dangerous  to 
society. 

BLIX. 

I  don't  know  exactly  what  to  think.  Personally  I 
haven't  anything  against  Frank.  On  the  contrary,  I  owe 
him  gratitude  for  many  a  favor. 

ULVBLINQ. 

That's  the  point  exactly.  He  has  been  able  to  keep 
himself  in  power  because  he  has  always  had  something  to 
give  away.  .  .  .  You  are,  of  course,  afraid  to  lose  the  as- 
sistance he  has  given  you — but  as  far  as  that  is  concerned, 
he  has  helped  your  competitors  also.  I  wonder  how  many 
newspapers  have  kept  soul  and  body  together  by  means  of 
that  secret  fund — all  in  all,  what  he  has  put  forth  in  the 
line  of  corruption. 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  23 

BLIX. 

You  parliamentary  gentlemen  would  do  well  to  go  slowly 
when  you  talk  of  corruption  to  us  journalists.  I  know 
more  than  one  case  where  the  representatives'  votes  have 
been  rewarded  with  marks  of  favor  to  themselves  or  to 
their  relatives. 

ULVELING. 

If  you  are  by  this  referring  to  the  story  of  myself  and 
my  son-in-law  .  .  . 

BLIX. 

I  wasn't  thinking  of  that  exactly,  but  since  you  mention 
it  we  may  just  as  well  include  it. 

ULVELING. 

The  accusation  was  unfounded  and  I  stamp  it  once 
more  as  a  contemptible  libel.  On  the  other  hand,  I  will- 
ingly acknowledge  that  as  far  as  my  colleagues  are  con- 
cerned, many  of  them  are  far  from  spotless.  .  .  .  And  not 
only  they.  .  .  .  This  distribution  of  concessions  and  con- 
tracts, all  these  scandalous  deals  which  have  been  carried 
on  for  years  under  our  very  eyes. 

BLIX. 

We  always  find  it  scandalous  when  some  one  else  walks 
off  with  the  profit. 

ULVELING. 

I  do  not  think  such  conditions  call  for  jesting  remarks. 
Seriously,  what  can  one  think  of  a  so-called  statesman 


24  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

that  deliberately  goes  to  work  to  demoralize  those  about 
him? 

BLDC. 

And  what  can  one  think  of  us  who  gladly  go  forth  and 
alilow  ourselves  to  be  demoralized  ? 

ULVELING. 

Of  "us" !  I  beg  of  you,  speak  for  yourself  and  leave  me 
out  of  the  game.  Thank  Heaven,  there  are  still  to  be 
found  in  our  political  life  men  who  are  able  to  show  them- 
selves with  uplifted  heads — men  whose  backbones  he 
has  not  been  able  to  bend.  You  will  soon  see  for  your- 
self. .  .  .  Now  I  can  give  you  a  piece  of  news. 

BLIX. 

News? 

ULVEUNG. 

Yes,  even  more  than  that — I  feel  justified  in  calling  it 
an  event.  ...  I  and  a  number  of  others  of  the  same  mind 
have  decided  to  secede  from  the  "block"  and  withdraw 
our  allegiance  from  the  government.  We  already  form  a 
considerable  nucleus,  and  more  will  join  us  later.  You 
can't  imagine  what  an  aggregate  of  ill-will  and  hatred  has 
silently  mounted  up  against  Frank  and  his  regime.  Both 
in  Parliament  and  in  the  highest  quarters  .  .  . 

BLIX. 

Oh,  aren't  the  highest  quarters  a  secondary  considera- 
tion? His  Majesty  is  so  old  and  worn-out.  .  .  . 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  25 

ULVELING. 

But  her  Majesty  is  that  much  more  interested  and  ac- 
tive. She  sent  for  me  the  other  day — well,  I  don't  know 
whether  I  ought  to  repeat  her  words — but  she  said  that 
she  would  like  to  hear  the  opinion  of  an  eminent  and  un- 
prejudiced statesman.  That  interview  has  convinced  me 
that  she  is  an  unusually  gifted  woman.  She  agreed  with 
me  in  everything  I  said  and  she  hates  Frank  with  her 
whole  heart. 

BLIX. 

I  see  she  has  never  forgiven  him  for  his  sarcasm  about 
the  "intellectual  milliner." 

ULVELING. 

His  sneering  tongue  has  secured  many  enemies  for  him. 
In  short,  there  is  plenty  of  inflammable  material  about 
and  the  explosion  is  not  a  thing  we  are  going  to  have  to 
wait  for.  .  .  .  You  would  better  follow  my  friendly  ad- 
vice and  leave  the  sinking  ship  in  time. 

BLIX. 
Like  the  rats,  you  mean.     A  flattering  comparison. 

ULVELING. 

To  join  us  will  not  be  to  your  disadvantage.  You  surely 
understand  that,  when  we  come  into  authority,  we  will 
allow  you  to  keep  your  subvention.  We,  of  course,  know 
what  a  government  owes  its  adherents.  But  if  you  abso- 


26  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

lutely  want  to  support  a  ministry  that  is  already  doomed 
— have  your  own  way.  You  simply  risk  losing  your  in- 
come from  the  secret  fund,  and  doubtless  your  advertise- 
ments will  be  considerably  diminished,  too. 

BLIX. 

Advertisements ! 

ULVELING. 

Don't  you  see  that  you  will  make  yourself  offensive  to 
the  business  world  if  you  do  not  disavow  connection  with 
Frank  and  his  socialism. 

BLIX. 

Yes,  but  on  the  question  of  the  profit-sharing  law  I 
have  kept  neutral. 

ULVELOTQ. 

That  is  not  sufficient.  In  business  circles  the  bitterness 
is  very  great  and  there  is  a  plan  on  to  boycott  in  the  future 
all  newspapers  that  do  not  take  a  firm  stand  in  favor  of 
the  property  classes.  And  I  know  that  they  have  special 
designs  on  your  paper. 

BLIX. 

I  have,  perhaps,  accommodated  myself  too  much  to 
Frank.  I  would  not  mind  if  it  were  a  question  of  political 
consequences  only.  But  if  the  advertisements  are  going 
to  suffer  .  .  .  Do  you  know,  I  believe  I  will  consider 
your  proposal? 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  27 

ULVELING. 

Bravo !  Now  you  are  talking  like  the  superior  man  you 
really  are. 

Bux. 

(Catches  sight  of  PRETORIUS,  who  comes  in  from  the  prom- 
enade hall.)  Look,  there  is  Pretorius.  .  .  . 

ULVELING. 

Word  of  honor,  Pretorius — did  you  know  beforehand 
what  was  going  to  happen  this  afternoon  or  did  you  not 
know? 

PRETORIUS. 

I  have  been  asked  that  question  about  fifty  times.  And 
the  answer  runs  thus:  I  knew  it  in  a  way,  but  in  another 
way  I  did  not  know  it  after  all. 

ULVELING. 

Your  speech  is  as  obscure  as  the  Delphic  oracle.  And 
yet  it  is  not  difficult  to  interpret.  The  truth  is:  You  did 
not  know  a  thing  about  it,  you  only  hate  to  acknowledge  it. 

PRETORIUS. 

You  may  construe  my  words  as  you  wish.  That  I  can- 
not prevent. 

ULVELING. 

I  understand  so  perfectly  how  hurt  you  must  feel.  We 
others  have  finally  accustomed  ourselves  to  the  fact  that 


28  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

Frank  is  inconsiderate  to  us.  But  that  he  is  willing  to 
offend  you,  the  friend  of  his  youth,  his  faithful  Pylades — 
no,  that  I  cannot  comprehend. 

PRETORIUS. 
You  are  mistaken.    I  have  no  cause  to  complain. 

ULVELING. 

No  cause,  you  say !  You,  who  by  right  of  your  position 
as  the  majority's  whip,  are  the  trusted  agent  both  of  us 
and  of  the  government.  Should  not  you  above  all  peo- 
ple have  a  right  to  demand  confidence?  .  .  .  But  since 
you  are  no  longer  intimate  with  Frank,  he  has  probably 
not  initiated  you  into  the  secret  of  what  he  intends  to  do 
further,  either? 

PRETORIUS. 

To  that  I  cannot  give  you  an  answer.  But  you  must 
not  worry  about  that.  He  will  doubtless  continue  to  show 
himself  to  be  what  he  always  has  been — the  strongest  man 
in  our  political  life. 

ULVELING. 

Yet  it  is  very  strange  how  weak  he  has  become,  this 
strong  man.  It  is  true  he  has  turned  Parliament  out-of- 
doors — as  long  as  it  lasts.  But  he  shows  a  surprising 
indulgence  to  the  honored  mob.  Syndicalist  meetings 
with  seditious  speeches  are  being  held,  demonstration 
processions  with  red  flags  and  revolutionary  music  are 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  29 

being  arranged.  I  am  sure  it  will  not  be  long  before  the 
capital  here  is  not  a  fit  place  for  respectable  people  to  live 
in. 

BLTX. 

It  is  not  much  better  in  the  provincial  towns.  The  re- 
ports this  evening  are  rather  alarming. 

ULVELING. 

And  he  does  not  interfere — he,  the  head  of  the  govern- 
ment and  minister  of  the  interior  as  well.  He  drives  with 
slack  reins  and  lets  things  go  as  they  will. 

PBETOBIUS. 

You  may  be  sure  he  will  tighten  the  reins  when  the  time 
comes.  Let  the  general  strike  come  and  he  will  soon  mas- 
ter it — on  that  you  may  rely.  .  .  .  What  do  you  say,  Mr. 
Blix? 

BLIX. 

I,  for  my  part,  await  the  general  strike  with  calmness 
of  mind. 

PRETORIUS. 

Yes,  you  too  are  of  the  opinion,  are  you  not,  that,  in  the 
end  reason  and  order  will  triumph  ? 

BLIX. 

I  hope  so.  But  I  was  thinking  chiefly  of  the  paper.  We 
have  made  arrangements  with  our  typesetters,  so  that 


30  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

the  strike  will  not  touch  us.  And  we  have  had  a  new  re- 
volving press  set  up,  too.  ...  So  we  are  well  armed 
for  the  exciting  times  we  have  ahead  of  us.  The  extra 
sales  will  probably  be  enormous.  .  .  . 

(ROBERT  FRANK  appears  at  the  door  on  the  left.) 

ULVELING. 

Attention,  gentlemen !  Here  comes  no  other  than  the 
august  Prime  Minister  himself. 

ROBERT  FRANK  (with  a  hasty  bow  to  the  gentlemen). 
Pretorius,  I  wish  to  have  a  few  words  with  you. 
(ULVELING  and  BLIX  withdraw.') 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  presume  that  you  are  hurt  because  I  did  not  let  you 
know  anything  beforehand. 

PRETORIUS. 

It  made  no  difference  as  to  myself.  The  unfortunate 
part  of  the  affair  is  that  the  whole  majority  feels  af- 
fronted. The  restless  times  make  it  excusable  that  you 
have  put  Parliament  out  of  function.  But  that  you  did 
this  without  consulting  the  group  leaders  is  looked  upon 
as  a  lack  of  consideration  toward  the  ministerial  block. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  was  exactly  the  group  leaders  that  I  did  not  want 
to  warn.  They  are  far  from  reliable — all  of  them.  Just 


ACT  i  ROBERT    FRANK  31 

ask  Ulveling — if  he  wished  to,  he  could  give  you  detailed 
information  as  to  the  conspiracy  against  me. 

PRETORIUS. 
What  conspiracy  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  are  really  the  one,  my  good  Pretorius,  who  should 
have  got  on  the  track  of  that.  But  fortunately  I  received 
warning  from  another  quarter.  The  plan  was  simply 
this,  that  I  should  be  put  in  a  sack  and  suffocated. 

PRETORIUS. 
What  on  earth  are  you  saying  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Don't  look  so  terrified — surely  you  understand  that  I 
am  speaking  metaphorically.  The  suffocation  was  to  take 
place  quite  parliamentarily  and  the  sack  was  no  other  than 
a  motion.  It  was  couched  in  very  careful  and  vague 
terms  but  practically  signified  that  my  profit-sharing  bill 
was  to  be  laid  aside  and  buried. 

PRETORIUS. 

I  did  hear  it  whispered  that  some  such  thing  was  afoot, 
but  I  did  not  pay  much  attention  to  it. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

And  do  you  think  you  can  guess  who  was  to  secure  a 
majority  for  this  motion?  Well,  in  the  first  place  the  re- 


32  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

actionaries,  then  the  socialists,  and,  finally,  a  number  of 
our  own  amiable  so-called  ministerials.  A  motley  com- 
pany, is  it  not  ? 

PBETORIUS. 

Permit  me  to  remark  that  I  have  my  doubts  about  this. 
I  still  think  that  it  has  amounted  to  no  more  than  the 
flighty  ideas  of  certain  individuals. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Now,  after  the  coup  has  miscarried,  the  instigators  will, 
of  course,  put  on  the  most  innocent  airs.  And  the  rank 
and  file  know  nothing  at  all  about  it;  they  were  kept  on 
the  outside  and  were  not  to  receive  orders  until  the  de- 
cisive moment.  That  is  to  say,  at  the  session  this  after- 
noon, when  it  was  agreed  that  the  bomb  was  to  explode. 

PRETORIUS. 

Yes,  of  course,  when  you  are  positive  about  this,  I  must 
give  in.  But  anyhow  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  have  it  from  a  reliable  source.  I  was  warned  this 
morning  and  I  understood  that  there  was  only  one  thing 
to  do:  the  talk-shop  had  to  be  closed.  I  drove  instantly 
to  the  castle  and  got  the  old  gentleman  to  sign  the  edict. 
Not  without  much  ado,  however — he  is  less  manageable 
now  than  he  used  to  be.  ...  Well,  I  don't  need  to  tell 
you  what  happened  afterward. 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  33 

PRETORIUS. 

No,  but  perhaps  you  will  tell  me  what  is  going  to  hap- 
pen now.  What  is  the  object  of  the  whole  thing — what  do 
you  expect  to  gain  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

What  I  expect  to  gain?  The  execution  of  my  pro- 
gramme, of  course.  I  have  certainly  declared  it  often 
enough:  as  head  of  the  government  I  am  not  going  to  sit 
by  quietly  any  longer  and  see  our  entire  industry  going  to 
destruction.  In  the  last  year  there  has  been  strike  after 
strike  and  things  are  constantly  becoming  worse,  the  coun- 
try is  being  impaired  both  economically  and  politically. 
The  time  has  come  when  we  must  secure  tranquillity  for 
labor  by  fair  means  or  foul. 

PRETORIUS. 

Well  enough — but  how  can  one  secure  tranquillity  for 
labor?  Especially  at  such  a  time  when  the  syndicalists 
are  fully  bent  on  a  general  strike.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

The  syndicalists  must  be  crushed  to  earth  so  that  they 
will  never  rise  again.  And  when  that  is  accomplished  the 
work  of  peace  will  begin. 

PRETORIUS. 
The  work  of  peace,  yes.     But  that  is  just  the  difficulty. 


34  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  is  not  insolvable.  If  one  goes  about  it  in  the  right 
way.  I  repeat  what  I  have  said  to  you  time  and  again: 
the  point  is  to  create  solidarity,  to  unite  employers  and 
workmen  by  common  interests.  The  workmen  must  be- 
come part-owners,  they  must  be  given  a  share  of  the 
profits.  If  they  are  to  become  reconciled  with  capital, 
they  must,  in  a  manner,  become  capitalists  themselves. 
I  see  no  other  road  to  social  tranquillity,  and  it  is  exactly 
this  road  to  which  my  profit-sharing  law  points. 

PRETORIUS. 

It  points  to  a  road  that  no  legislation  has  ever  before 
trod.  It  has  no  prototype  in  any  country. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Well,  we  shall  be  the  ones  to  offer  the  prototype. 

PRETORIUS. 

I  wonder?  I  told  you  long  ago  what  I  think  of  this 
law.  If  any  other  minister  had  made  such  a  revolutionary 
proposal,  he  would  have  been  done  for  at  once.  You 
have  had  prestige  enough  to  be  able  to  take  such  a  risk. 
But  you  could  not  have  believed  for  a  moment  that  the 
law  would  really  be  put  into  effect. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
And  why  should  I  have  staked  everything  on  it  then  ? 


ACT  i  ROBERT    FRANK  35 

PRETORIUS. 

Say  what  you  will — I  cannot  but  believe  that  the  pro- 
posal was  put  forth  for  tactical  purposes  only.  That  you 
wished  to  try  to  split  the  Labor  party  by  it.  ... 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Nothing  has  been  further  from  my  thoughts  in  this  mat- 
ter than  tactical  motives.  Tactics — I  have  got  to  the 
point  of  being  nauseated  at  the  very  sound  of  the  word, 
after  all  these  years  spent  in  coaxing  and  cajoling.  Now, 
for  once  I  am  going  to  allow  myself  the  luxury  of  walking 
a  straight  path,  of  acting  exclusively  in  obedience  to  my 
own  will. 

PRETORIUS. 
Be  careful — you  are  putting  your  authority  at  stake. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

For  what  purpose  have  I  gained  my  authority  if  I  can- 
not risk  it  for  a  cause  that  deserves  promoting  ?  .  .  .  They 
say  that  "noblesse  oblige,"  but  truly  the  possession  of 
power  does  so,  too. 

PRETORITTS. 

I  am  afraid  there  will  be  little  power  left  if  you  con- 
tinue to  push  your  profit-sharing  law.  I  am  speaking 
mildly  when  I  say  that  it  has  absolutely  no  sympathy  in 
Parliament. 


36  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

That  is  just  why  I  sent  Parliament  home.  Until  it 
changes  its  mind. 

PRETORIUS. 

In  that  case  you  must  first  get  the  whole  country  to 
change  its  mind.  But  business  people  will  hear  nothing 
of  your  law,  because  they  consider  it  an  insufferable  inter- 
ference with  the  rights  of  property.  And  the  workmen 
look  on  it  as  nothing  but  a  bluff,  whose  only  aim  is  to  do 
away  with  their  precious  liberty  to  go  on  strikes.  So  where 
you  are  to  find  support  is  beyond  my  understanding. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

The  course  of  events  will  possibly  teach  these  good  peo- 
ple to  look  on  my  programme  otherwise  than  they  do  now. 
Just  wait  and  see — the  reaction  may  come  before  three 
weeks  have  passed. 

PRETORITTS. 
And  why  should  it  come  so  soon  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Because  by  that  time  we  shall  have  seen  the  vast  chaos. 
At  least  I  hope  so. 

PRETORITJS. 
You  hope  for  a  chaos  ? 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  37 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Don't  you  know  anything  about  astronomy?  Don't 
you  know  that  it  is  from  chaotic  nebulae  that  solar  systems 
are  evolved.  The  new  is  born  of  chaos  alone. 

PRETORITTS. 

Well,  that  may  be,  but  I  prefer  to  keep  to  the  earth, 
and  there  chaos  is  not  generally  considered  a  blessing.  .  .  . 
You  talk  as  though  you  don't  care  if  everything  goes  to 
the  devil.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

A  certain  amount  of  daredevil  recklessness  is  always 
necessary  if  one  wishes  to  accomplish  in  politics  anything 
that  is  to  make  its  mark. 

PRETORIUS. 

There  is  a  limit  to  everything,  and  I  am  not  at  all  sure 
that  you  yourself  are  going  to  escape  with  a  whole  skin 
from  the  chaos  you  long  for. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Do  you  think  that  7  feel  sure  of  it  any  more  than  you 
do?  On  the  contrary — it  is  just  as  probable  as  not  that 
I  shall  break  my  neck  on  this  affair.  But  the  uncertainty 
only  makes  it  the  more  alluring  for  me. 

PRETORIUS. 

Thanks,  now  we  have  had  enough;  you  no  longer 
frighten  me.  You  are  simply  standing  there  making  a 


38  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

fool  of  me — I  should  have  suspected  it  as  soon  as  you  came 
with  your  vast  chaos.  But  one  never  knows  where  one 
has  you.  You  were  the  same  mystifier  even  in  your  stu- 
dent days. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Did  you  know  me  then  ? 

PRETORIUB. 
Did  I  know  you  ?     What  a  question! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  for  it  was  no  more  than  quite  occasionally  that  we 
met. 

PRETORITTS. 

Oh,  no;  we  really  did  meet  constantly.  Otherwise  I 
could  not  possibly  remember  so  many  characteristics  and 
anecdotes  from  your  youthful  days. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Oh,  those  you  simply  invented. 

PRETORIUS. 
What! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  manufactured  them  when  I  became  minister.  Be- 
fore then  you  remembered  nothing. 


ACT  i  ROBERT    FRANK  39 

PBETOBITJS. 

Well,  I  am  almost  speechless.  ...  I  trust  that  you 
please  to  jest.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK  (laughing). 

Yes,  of  course,  you  know  that.  Was  it  not  you  your- 
self who  called  me  a  mystifier?  And  that  suddenly  gave 
me  the  desire  to  tease  you  a  little,  old  friend.  .  .  .  But 
here  I  am  lost  in  talk  and  have  not  yet  greeted  my  host 
and  hostess.  .  .  .  Au  revoir.  .  .  .  (At  the  entrance  to 
the  promenade  hall  ROBERT  FRANK  meets  the  YOUNG  DIP- 
LOMAT with  JULIA  CAMERON  on  his  arm.  As  he  returns  the 
young  man's  greeting  he  is  seen  to  start  and  hesitate  for  a 
moment.  Then  apparently  collecting  himself  he  walks  on.) 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

Did  you  notice  the  look  he  gave  you,  Miss  Cameron? 
It  was  really  quite  extraordinary. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

And  you  who  know  how  I  am  longing  to  talk  to  him — 
it  is  too  bad  of  you  that  you  did  not  help  me  to  it  just  now. 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 
How  could  I  have  managed  that  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

That  is  your  own  affair.  With  a  little  presence  of 
mind  .  .  .  (She  leaves  him  and  sits  down  at  the  left.) 


40  ROBERT    FRANK  ACTI 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT  (follows  and  sits  down  by  her). 
Now  you  are  unjust.  .  .  .     Air.  Pretorius,  I  appeal  to 
you — was  it  possible  for  me  to  introduce  Miss  Cameron 
and  the  Prime  Minister  to  each  other  ? 

PRETORIUS  (sits  down  also). 

No,  to  speak  sincerely,  I  do  not  think  that  that  would 
have  been  correct. 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

There  you  see.  ...  On  the  whole,  in  what  manner  you 
are  to  make  his  acquaintance — have  you  any  idea  as  to 
what  a  difficult  problem  that  is  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

It  is  doubtless  one  of  those  difficulties  that  diplomats 
manufacture  in  order  to  have  something  to  do. 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

Let  me  explain  myself  more  fully  and  you  will  be  able 
to  judge  for  yourself.  An  acquaintance  is  made  by  an 
introduction,  is  it  not?  Now  I  ask:  which  of  you  is  to  be 
introduced  to  the  other,  you  or  he  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
I  really  had  not  thought  of  that. 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

You  or  he — cruelle  enigme!  .  .  .  That  you  should  allow 
yourself  to  be  presented  is  impossible  because  of  your 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  41 

sex.  It  might  be  permitted  in  an  extreme  case,  if  Mr. 
Frank  were  a  dignified  old  gentleman,  but  he  happens  to 
be  a  man  in  the  prime  of  life.  You  may  reply  that  then 
he  could  be  presented  to  you,  but  that  is  by  no  means  so 
simple  a  matter  as  it  seems.  I  appeal  again  to  Mr.  Pre- 
torius'  discernment. 

PRETORIUS. 

I  think  that  it  would  not  be  according  to  custom  for  the 
Prime  Minister  to  allow  himself  to  be  presented  to  a  very 
young  lady.  Unless  that  young  lady  were  married. 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

I  admire  you,  Mr.  Pretorius.  You  have  found  the 
solution.  .  .  .  Now  you  see  how  it  is  to  be  done,  Miss 
Cameron:  if  you  wish  to  make  the  Prime  Minister's  ac- 
quaintance, you  must  first  marry  one  of  your  many 
adorers. 

JULIA  CAMEBON. 
Who  has  told  you  that  I  have  any  adorers  ? 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 
As  if  it  were  necessary  for  any  one  to  tell  me  t hat. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

And  you  think,  then,  that  I  would  be  content  with  an 
"adorer,"  as  you  express  it?  No,  I  am  much  more  exi- 
geante  than  that. 


42  ROBERT    FRANK  ACTI 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

Doesn't  it  touch  your  heart  when  you  know  that  you 
are  adored  ?  What  do  you  demand,  then,  of  the  one  whom 
you  would  choose  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
I  demand  that  he  shall  be  a  man  whom  7  can  adore. 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

Whom  you  can  adore  ?  That  is  undeniably  an  extraor- 
dinary exaction.  If  you  make  such  conditions  I  am  afraid 
none  of  us  shall  be  able  to  qualify.  .  .  .  But  perhaps  a 
man  like  the  Prime  Minister  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Well,  what  about  him  ? 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

His  person  seems  to  have  found  favor  in  your  critical 
eyes.  And  as  he  is  still  free  and  unbound  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON  (to  PRETORIUS). 
Has  he  never  been  married  ? 

PRETORIUS. 

No,  never.  I  could  not  even  imagine  him  as  a  married 
man. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
But  why  not  ? 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  43 

PRETORIUS. 

Because  he  is  a  hermit  by  nature.  In  fact,  I  know  no- 
body that  has  lived  the  solitary  life  to  the  extent  that  he 
has. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
But  he  must  have  relatives  and  friends. 

PRETORIUS. 

He  has  only  one  friend  and  that  is  my  humble  self. 
But  he  has  no  relatives  left  with  the  exception  of  a  brother- 
in-law,  the  husband  of  a  sister  who  is  dead. 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

You  mean  that  ludicrous  fellow  whom  he  uses  as  a  sort 
of  secretary — Leporello  ? 

PRETORIUS. 

Yes,  that  is  what  he  is  called,  but  his  real  name  is 
Winkelmann. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Leporello — does  that  mean  that  Mr.  Frank  is  a  Don 
Juan  ? 

PRETORIUS. 

No,  no,  not  at  all.  I  imagine  the  point  is  that  Winkel- 
mann's  appearance  reminds  one  of  a  hare.  The  name 
Leporello  has  that  meaning,  you  know. 


44  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

Isn't  the  point  rather  that  he  goes  on  errands  that  others 
are  not  willing  to  undertake?  That  the  Prime  Minister 
uses  him  for  certain  unmentionable  transactions  .  . , . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

How  do  you  know  that  Mr.  Frank  engages  in  things 
that  he  dares  not  mention  ? 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

If  he  were  exaggeratedly  scrupulous,  he  would  never 
have  attained  the  position  he  now  holds.  .  .  .  You  who 
are  a  journalist,  Miss  Cameron,  are  certainly  not  un- 
aware of  the  fact  that  no  statesman  can  be  made  out  of 
pure  gold. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
And  why  not  ? 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 

Don't  you  know  that  pure  gold  is  too  soft  to  use  for 
current  coin?  It  must  first  be  alloyed  with  a  number  of 
less  precious  metals  before  it  gains  sufficient  hardness  and 
power  of  resistance.  It  is  just  the  same  with  leading 
politicians. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Did  you  discover  this  comparison  all  by  yourself? 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  45 

THE  YOTTNG  DIPLOMAT. 

No,  I  plough  with  another  man's  ox.  But  this  other 
was  a  man  who  could  speak  from  experience. 

PRETOKIUS. 

Miss  Cameron,  your  wish  is  about  to  be  fulfilled.  .  .  . 
(ROBERT  FRANK  comes  in  from  the  promenade  hall  with  the 
ambassadress  on  his  arm.) 

THE  AMBASSADRESS  (motioning  JULIA  CAMERON  to  her). 
Oh,  Julia,  be  good  enough  to  come  here.  .  .  . 

(JULIA  CAMERON  rises  and  goes  toward  her  aunt. 
PRETORIUS  and  the  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT  disappear  into  the 
drawing-room  at  the  left.) 

THE  AMBASSADRESS. 

Mr.  Frank,  this  is  my  niece,  Miss  Cameron.  .  .  .  Julia, 
Mr.  Frank  has  been  so  kind  as  to  say  that  he  would  like 
to  make  your  acquaintance.  I  have  told  him  that  you 
are  a  journalist  and  would  be  grateful  for  an  interview. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
It  would  be  a  pleasure  to  me  to  ... 

THE  AMBASSADRESS. 

But  you  must  not  think  that  she  is  an  ordinary  re- 
porter. She  has  studied  in  both  Paris  and  Zurich  and  she 
is  a  doctor  of  philosophy  or  something — I  don't  know  ex- 


46  ROBERT    FRANK  ACTI 

actly  what — but  she  is  a  doctor  at  any  rate.  Yes,  she  is  a 
perfect  little  wonder.  Just  think,  when  she  was  only 
fifteen  years  old  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Aunt,  I  beg  of  you  .  .  . 

THE  AMBASSADRESS. 

Anyhow,  all  this  studying  .  .  .  Do  you  think,  Mr. 
Frank,  that  it  is  good  for  young  girls  to  be  learned  ?  My 
niece  has  become  so  terribly  revolutionary  from  it — she  is 
almost  a  socialist,  I  believe.  But  she  pays  no  attention 
at  all  to  me  when  I  say:  Julia,  such  things  don't  do  for  a 
young  woman  of  your  position.  For  I  must  tell  you  that 
we  belong  to  a  good,  old  family.  A  very  highly  respected 
family  from  the  Southern  States. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
But  aunt  .  .  . 

THE  AMBASSADRESS. 

Couldn't  you  dissuade  her  from  this  way  of  thinking, 
Mr.  Frank,  when  you  talk  to  her  ?  She  is  so  enthusiastic 
about  you  since  she  saw  you  in  Parliament  this  afternoon. 
We  were  both  in  a  box  and  I  had  secured  seats  in  the  front 
row,  for  in  the  back  one  sees  nothing  on  account  of  the 
hats.  What  do  you  think  of  the  huge  hats  women  are 
wearing,  Mr.  Frank — ought  not  they  really  to  be  forbidden 


ACT  i  ROBERT    FRANK  47 

by  law  ?  And  when  you  were  about  to  read  the  paper  you 
had  in  your  hand  and  everybody  was  so  excited  about 
it,  you  simply  stood  there  and  smiled.  That  is  to  say,  I 
did  not  notice  that  you  did,  but  Julia  said:  "Did  you  see 
how  he  smiled,  aunt?" — and  she  has  not  been  able  to  for- 
get it  since.  What  was  there  about  Mr.  Frank's  smile 
that  made  such  an  impression  on  you  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Now,  aunt,  you  must  really  .  .  . 

THE  AMBASSADRESS. 

Mr.  Pretorius  said  that  you  always  smiled  that  way  in 
your  student  days  when  you  played  a  really  good  trick  on 
some  one  or  other,  but  my  niece  insisted  that  that  smile 
meant  something  much  deeper.  .  .  .  Won't  you  smile, 
Mr.  Frank,  so  that  I  can  see?  .  .  .  No,  I  don't  discover 
anything  special.  .  .  .  But  now  I  must  go  in  for  the 
quadrille.  I  am  going  to  dance  it  with  the  Russian  am- 
bassador and  he  is  probably  looking  about  for  me.  .  .  . 
(She  goes  out  into  the  promenade  hall.) 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
You  do  not  dance,  Miss  Cameron  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Indeed  I  do,  most  gladly — I  may  say,  I  am  passionately 
fond  of  it. 


48  ROBERT     FRANK  ACT  i 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Unfortunately,  I  do  not  dare  ask  you  to  dance  with  me. 
I  have  always  been  a  bad  dancer  and  now  am  entirely  out 
of  practice  besides. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Men  of  mark  never  dance  well,  I  am  sure.  At  least  I 
have  noticed  that  men  who  are  perfect  dancers  are  sel- 
dom very  intelligent.  I  wonder  if  dancing  is  not  an  ac- 
complishment that  is  inconsistent  with  a  highly  developed 
brain. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  mean  that  the  one  kind  of  balance  excludes  the 
other?  I  am  sorry  that  I  am  not  qualified  to  express  an 
opinion  on  this  scientific  question.  But,  at  any  rate,  I  am 
very  grateful  to  you  for  the  amiable  manner  in  which  you 
explain  my  imperfections  as  a  dancer. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Oh,  now  you  are  making  sport  of  me.  But,  perhaps,  my 
remark  was  somewhat  stupid.  .  .  . 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT 

(Comes  from  the  drawing-room  at  the  left.}  I  beg  a 
thousand  pardons  for  making  so  bold  as  to  interrupt. 
But  perhaps  you  remember,  Miss  Cameron,  that  you 
promised  me  the  quadrille  and  it  is  about  to  begin. 


ACT  i  ROBERT    FRANK  49 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Oh,  fancy,  I  had  forgotten.  I  am  extremely  sorry,  but 
I  have  danced  the  entire  evening  and  now  I  am  dreadfully 
tired.  You  will  excuse  me,  won't  you?  You  can  easily 
find  another  partner.  .  .  . 

THE  YOUNG  DIPLOMAT. 
I  am  very  sorry.  .  .  .     (He  withdraws.') 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  said  you  were  tired,  Miss  Cameron.  Shall  we  not 
sit  down  ?  (They  sit  down  at  the  right  foreground.") 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Mr.  Frank,  there  is  something  I  want  so  much  to  say 
to  you.  But  I  do  not  know  that  I  dare.  I  feel  so  em- 
barrassed in  your  presence.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Couldn't  you  persuade  yourself  to  say  it  anyhow  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes,  I  really  do  not  believe  I  can  resist  ...  Of  course, 
I  know  you  do  not  attach  any  importance  to  what  an  in- 
significant young  woman  thinks  of  your  politics.  But  I 
do  so  much  want  you  to  know  how  I  admire  you  for  your 
proposal  to  give  workmen  a  share  of  the  profits.  For  a 
man  like  you  to  jeopardize  his  position  for  the  sake  of 
workmen — it  is  grand,  unprecedented.  .  .  . 


50  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Miss  Cameron,  I  do  not  wish  to  appear  to  your  eyes 
other  than  I  am.  I  have  not  put  forward  my  proposal 
for  the  sake  of  workmen. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Not  for  the  workmen  ?    But  for  whom,  then  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

For  industry  in  general.  It  is  not  sentimental  consider- 
ation that  has  actuated  me,  but  simply  my  sense  of 
economy.  It  disgusts  me  to  see  all  this  waste  of  forces 
caused  by  these  eternal  strikes,  and  it  is  on  that  account 
that  I  am  trying  to  straighten  things  out. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
But  the  conditions  for  workmen  will  be  improved  by  it. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Certainly,  the  workmen  will  benefit  by  my  profit-shar- 
ing law.  But  so  will  the  employers,  too.  Otherwise,  I 
should  never  have  had  anything  to  do  with  the  matter. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
And  I  really  believed  you  were  a  socialist. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  was  in  my  younger  days.  What  appealed  to  me  in 
socialism  was  just  exactly  its  demand  for  the  organization 


ACT  i  ROBERT    FRANK  51 

of  forces.  But  I  soon  learned  that  the  masses  of  the  party 
are  not  concerned  with  that  sort  of  thing.  They  are  not 
actuated  by  anything  except  poorhouse  ideals. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
So  now  you  have  discarded  socialism  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Not  uncompromisingly.  Socialism?  Well,  I  have  no 
objection  to  it,  but  it  must  not  be  carried  out  by  pro- 
letarians. It  demands  a  dictatorship — a  dictatorship  of 
intelligence. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

But  isn't  it  true  that  the  party  is  certainly  gaining  more 
and  more  intelligent  followers?  At  the  university  I  was 
struck  by  the  number  of  enthusiastic  adherents  that  so- 
cialism has  among  the  students. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  talk  about  the  enthusiasm  young 
people  feel  for  great  and  noble  things.  But,  as  a  rule, 
what  attracts  the  young  is  not  the  ideal  side  of  a  question. 
No,  it  is  the  sensational.  And  sensations  do  not  last  long. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Unfortunately,  that  is  probably  true — in  many  cases. 
But  for  some  people,  I  think  socialism  is  more  than  sen- 
sation. They  join  its  ranks,  because  it  is  consistent 


52  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

with  their  sense  of  justice.  For  we  can  never  get  away 
from  the  fact  that  the  distinction  made  between  the  high 
and  the  low  is  inordinately  unjust. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  is  right  that  there  is  a  distinction  between  high  and 
low.  Those  that  are  under  must  have  a  living  goal  to 
look  up  to,  one  tempting  enough  to  strive  for.  What  sets 
capabilities  in  motion  is  the  sight  of  distances  and  the  de- 
sire to  cover  them.  No  distances,  no  advancement. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

But  I  also  was  thinking  of  the  artificial  distances — the 
unmerited  differences  that  depend  on  pure  chance.  They 
surely  cannot  be  defended.  For  one  cannot  say  that  a 
human  being  is  in  himself  less  worthy  because  he  is  born 
in  a  lower  class  of  society. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  must  not  believe  that  I  nourish  any  such  prejudices. 
My  experience  teaches  me  just  the  contrary — that  the 
basic  elements  are  surprisingly  similar  in  all  classes.  Rich 
and  poor,  masters  and  slaves,  high  life  and  low  life — taken 
on  an  average  they  are  all  very  much  the  same  kind  of 
rabble. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

But  when  nature  has  made  them  equal,  why  should  one 
class  live  in  superfluous  luxury  and  the  other  suffer  want? 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  53 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  why  ?  There  you  touch  the  salient  point.  I  read- 
ily acknowledge  that  it  is  unjust.  But  justice,  for  that 
matter,  is  a  side  issue. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Is  justice  a  side  issue  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

There  are  certain  considerations  that  outweigh  those  of 
justice  and  they  are  cultural  considerations.  And  cul- 
ture cannot  be  advanced  except  with  the  help  of  an  elite. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

I  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  the  so-called  best  society  and 
I  do  not  think  it  deserves  the  name  elite. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Nor  do  I  mean  the  so-called  best  society  by  the  word 
elite.  Prosperity,  education,  refined  habits — all  this  is 
only  the  soil  and  atmosphere  in  which  the  flower  of  the 
elite  can  bloom.  The  elite  itself  is  composed  of  those  who 
show  us  how  far  and  how  high  a  human  being  is  capable 
of  reaching. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

But  such  elite  creatures  may  also  be  born  in  a  lower 
class,  may  they  not  ? 


54  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

They  may  be  born  there,  but  they  cannot  continue  to 
exist  there.  Their  ideas,  their  deeds  feel  the  need  of 
hearing  an  echo;  they  need  to  be  surrounded  by  cultured 
people  who  can  afford  to  interest  themselves  in  something 
besides  their  daily  bread.  Namely,  for  the  superfluous, 
which  in  the  end  is  really  the  most  necessary,  for  it  is  the 
only  thing  that  can  reform  a  two-legged  creature  into  a 
human  being. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

And  on  that  account  the  privileged  classes  are  to  be 
protected  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  on  that  account  only.  Not  for  their  own  sakes, 
but  to  have  a  milieu  which  secures  light  and  air  for  the 
highest  human  types.  This  is  much  more  important  than 
that  the  great  masses  should  be  a  little  better  dressed  and 
fed  than  they  are  now.  For  no  more  than  three  quarter 
humans  can  be  formed  from  them  anyhow. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

I  am  beginning  to  understand  why  you  are  in  favor  of 
the  sway  of  the  upper  classes.  But,  anyhow  .  .  .  Well, 
perhaps  the  present  order  of  things  is  rational,  but 
there  are  so  many  things  about  it  that  my  feelings  rebel 
against. 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  55 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  is  only  for  lack  of  something  better  that  I  am  in 
favor  of  the  sway  of  the  upper  classes.  The  mind  alone 
should  have  full  sway.  .  .  .  Once  in  my  youth  there 
floated  before  my  eyes  a  future.  .  .  .  However,  it  is  of 
no  consequence. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
0,  do  continue.     What  sort  of  a  future  was  it  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  imagined  a  state  of  things  where  the  elite  we  spoke  of 
was  to  be  the  new  sovereign.  I  thought  that  it  could  form 
a  covenant  that  would  by  force  of  mind  be  unconquerable. 
But  it  was  not  to  misuse  this  power  for  personal  advan- 
tages, but,  on  the  contrary,  to  employ  it  to  elevate  the 
others.  The  elite  was  to  unite  in  a  common  task — to  take 
unto  itself  this  groping,  immature  humanity  and  reshape 
it  into  the  highest  perfection  attainable. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes !  That  is  what  we  should  have.  The  elite  should 
form  a  covenant !  And  such  a  man  as  you  should  be  the 
leader  of  it. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Unfortunately,  I  am  unable  to  accept  your  too  flattering 
request.  There  is,  in  fact,  a  hitch  in  the  plan  and  that  is 
that  the  elite  are  incapable  of  forming  a  covenant. 


56  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  i 

JULIA  CAMEKON.     . 
Why  so? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Because  that  would  be  exactly  in  opposition  to  its 
nature.  Elite  creatures  have — each  and  every  one  of 
them — a  highly  individual  stamp  peculiar  to  themselves; 
and,  of  course,  it  must  be  so,  for  otherwise  they  would  not 
be  the  elite.  But  it  is  just  this  peculiarity  that  prevents 
their  joining  together.  ...  On  the  other  hand,  the  rest 
of  mankind,  the  human  mean,  those  who  are  made  on  one 
and  the  same  last,  they,  indeed,  are  as  if  created  to  move 
in  herds.  Only  look  at  our  political  parties. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

You  mean  that  the  party  system  is  a  sign  of  intellectual 
inferiority  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

In  a  way,  yes.  Men  find  each  other  in  common  inter- 
ests and  the  common  is  of  necessity  the  ordinary.  And 
the  more  ordinary  men  are,  both  they  and  their  aims,  the 
greater  chance  there  is  of  party  formation  and  hence  of 
power  and  success  too.  ...  It  is  this  that  makes  poli- 
tics so  disgusting  and  sometimes  so  hopeless. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
And  yet  you  chose  politics  as  your  life  work.  .  .  . 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  57 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Up  to  now  it  has  been  only  a  metier  for  me. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

But  there  must  be  moments,  nevertheless,  when  it  fills 
your  thoughts.  As  this  afternoon  when  you  stood  there 
in  the  Parliament.  It  must  have  made  you  feel  very 
proud  to  be  the  one  on  whom  all  eyes  were  fastened  and 
to  know  that  you  needed  to  say  only  a  word  to  put  the 
whole  country  in  movement. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  assure  you  that  at  exactly  that  moment  my  thoughts 
were  very  far  away  from  all  politics. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Is  it  possible ! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Have  you  never  discovered  that  at  an  important  mo- 
ment your  attention  may  run  away  with  you?  Perhaps 
you  are  trying  to  concentrate  yourself  on  one  thing  alone 
and  the  circumstances  demand  that  you  should,  but  your 
interest  becomes  involuntarily  snared  by  some  object  that 
has  nothing  to  do  with  the  situation.  Have  you  not  had 
such  an  experience  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes,  now  that  you  mention  it,  I  do  remember  once  .  .  . 
No,  I  shan't  repeat  it,  it  was  so  meaningless.  .  .  . 


58  ROBERT    FRANK  ACTI 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Oh,  yes,  let  me  hear. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

It  was  only  a  bagatelle,  something  that  happened  to  me 
once  when  I  was  taking  an  examination.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
And  what  was  it  that  happened  then  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Oh,  it  was  only  that  the  professor  had  asked  me  a  ques- 
tion just  as  my  eyes  fell  upon  a  big  fly  that  was  creeping 
across  the  table  in  such  a  strangely  slow  manner  that  I 
could  not  keep  from  staring  at  it,  so  that  it  absolutely 
hypnotized  me  and  I  forgot  to  reply.  ...  It  was  only 
that — oh,  how  stupid !  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Well,  it  was  something  similar  that  happened  to  me 
to-day.  But  with  this  difference  that  it  was  not  a  fly 
that  drew  my  attention.  No,  it  was  a  young  woman. 
And  can  you  guess  who  it  was  ?  It  was  you,  Miss  Cameron. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
I? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  you  were  sitting  in  the  box  opposite  my  seat.  .  .  . 
As  soon  as  I  saw  your  face  a  memory  was  awakened  in 
me — a  memory  such  as  comes  to  us  in  dreams.  Strange ! 


ACT  i  ROBERTFRANK  59 

As  in  a  flash  of  lightning  we  seem  to  remember  what  we 
have  never  experienced.  .  .  .  Though,  who  knows?  .  .  . 
Miss  Cameron,  are  you  sure  we  have  never  met  before  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Where  could  that  have  been  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  where  ?  Not  in  the  state  of  being  we  call  life  and 
reality.  But  perhaps  in  another  existence  for  which  we 
cannot  account.  .  .  .  Time  and  time  again  while  we 
have  been  sitting  here  talking,  I  have  had  the  feeling  of 
recognition. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Your  pleasure  in  the  recognition  cannot  have  been  very 
great.  For  what  /  have  said  in  the  course  of  the  conver- 
sation is  so  extraordinarily  trivial  that  I  cannot  help  but 
be  ashamed  of  it. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  have  no  cause  for  that.  And  anyhow  it  does  not 
depend  on  what  is  said.  It  is  not  words  alone  that  reveal 
us  to  each  other.  The  soul  has  other  means  of  com- 
munication. .  .  .  (A  confused  noise  is  heard  from  without.) 
What  can  be  going  on  out  there?  ...  O,  yes,  I  re- 
member. .  .  .  (Guests  are  seen  hastening  from  the  prom- 
enade hall  in  the  direction  of  the  ballroom.) 


60  ROBERT    FRANK  ACTI 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
There  must  be  a  mob  down  in  this  street.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  the  noise  does  not  come  from  the  street  below.  (He 
rises,  draws  a  curtain  aside,  and  opens  the  window.}  It 
is  at  the  corner,  in  the  great  square  on  which  the  ballroom 
opens.  .  .  .  ( JULIA  CAMERON  goes  toward  the  window.) 
Lean  out  and  you  can  see  how  the  people  are  gather- 
ing. .  .  .  (From  without  a  few  voices  begin  to  sing,  more 
and  more  constantly  joining  in  until  it  sounds  as  though  there 
were  hundreds.  The  song  ceases.  The  tramp  of  horses' 
feet,  screams,  and  shrieks  are  heard.)  There  are  the 
mounted  police.  They  are  clearing  the  square. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Oh,  the  poor  creatures !  Oh !  I  do  hope  there  will  be 
no  accidents. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  orders  have  been  given  to  deal  leniently  with  them. 
Don't  be  anxious,  Miss  Cameron. 

PRETORIUS  (comes  hastily  in). 
Do  you  know  what  has  happened  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  think  I  can  about  guess  it.  But  perhaps  you  have 
had  a  closer  view  ? 


ACT  i  ROBERT     FRANK  61 

PRETORIUS. 

I  was  in  the  ballroom  when  the  hubbub  broke  loose. 
Of  course  the  dancing  ceased.  Everybody  rushed  to  the 
windows  to  see  what  was  afoot.  The  mob  stood  below 
and  insulted  us.  Among  other  things  they  cried  out: 
"Down  with  the  Pearl  Queen."  And  then  sang  the  "In- 
ternational" into  the  bargain.  For  such  a  thing  to  hap- 
pen in  front  of  the  embassy  of  a  foreign  power !  Why,  it 
is  a  perfect  scandal. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  it  is  an  unpleasant  affair.  But  the  crowd  is  scat- 
tered and  it  is  all  over  now.  The  police  had  been  stationed 
in  the  side  streets  and  were  ready  to  interfere. 

PRETORIUS. 

You  knew,  then,  that  a  demonstration  had  been 
planned?  But,  then,  why  was  it  not  stopped  before- 
hand ?  Had  it  not  been  better  to  interfere  at  an  earlier 
stage? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  do  like  to  ask  questions,  Pretorius;  you  are  too  in- 
quisitive. Sometimes,  I  pursue  my  own  course,  you  see. 
I  have  my  little  secrets,  into  which  I  initiate  no  one — un- 
less I  might  one  day  confide  them  to  Miss  Cameron  .  .  . 
for  I  hope  this  is  not  to  be  our  last  meeting. 


62  ROBERT    FRANK  ACTI 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Oh,  no;  you  know  I  am  in  town  as  a  newspaper  corre- 
spondent and  as  ... 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

And  then  you  will  want  an  interview,  won't  you?  In 
fact,  your  aunt  told  me  that  you  do.  And  our  conversa- 
tion this  evening — that  was  not  an  interview. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Then  I  may  be  allowed  to  call  on  you  soon  ?  But  I  am 
very  much  afraid  of  causing  inconvenience.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Not  at  all.  You  will  be  welcome  at  any  time.  I  shall 
always  be  glad  to  receive  you.  Now  that  I  have  dis- 
covered that  we  are  old  acquaintances,  it  is  only  natural. 

PRETORIUS. 
Indeed !    Have  you  met  Miss  Cameron  before  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  am  quite  sure  that  I  have.  .  .  .  But  I  propose  now 
that  we  shall  go  look  up  the  ambassadress  and  Mr.  Hunter. 
I  owe  it  to  them  to  express  my  regret  over  the  occurrence. 

PRETORIUS. 
Yes,  do.  .  .  .    The  more  I  think  of  it,  the  more  painful 


ACTI  ROBERT    FRANK  63 

it  seems.  .  .  .     That  it  could  not  have  been  prevented — 
that  is  beyond  my  comprehension.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Are  you  still  occupied  with  your  speculations?  Re- 
member what  I  said  about  the  vast  chaos.  This  is  only 
the  prelude. 

PRETORrCTS. 

The  vast  chaos  ?  Well,  now,  I  do  begin  to  fear  that  you 
are  really  in  earnest.  .  .  . 

(ROBERT  FRANK  smiles  and  offers  his  arm  to  JULIA 
CAMERON.  They  all  proceed  toward  the  promenade  hall.) 


SECOND  ACT 

An  office  room  of  the  Department  of  the  Interior.  In  the 
centre,  a  long  council  table  covered  with  green  cloth,  sur- 
rounded by  high-back  chairs.  On  the  watts,  portraits  of 
former  cabinet  ministers,  all  in  uniform.  To  the  right,  two 
widely  separated  bay  windows.  By  the  farther  window,  a 
desk.  Farther  forward  on  the  same  side,  a  round  table  on 
which  newspapers  and  magazines  are  lying.  A  few  arm- 
chairs near  it.  To  the  left,  a  swinging  door  into  the  private 
secretary's  room. 

ROBERT  FRANK  is  standing  by  the  council  table,  looking 
through  some  papers. 

THE  JANITOR  (opening  the  swinging  door,  announces). 
His  Excellency,  the  Minister  of  Public  Works. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Hasn't  Mr.  Winkelmann  come  back? 

THE  JANITOR. 

Mr.  Winkelmann  has  not  yet  made  his  appearance,  your 
Excellency. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Admit  his  Excellency. 

(The  JANITOR  disappears  and  the  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC 
64 


ACTII  ROBERT    FRANK  65 

WORKS  comes  in.     ROBERT  FRANK  motions  to  him  to  sit 
down.     Both  seat  themselves  at  the  council  table.') 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Well,  my  dear  colleague,  what  new  evil  tidings  have 
you  to  serve  up  to  me  ? 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 
Unfortunately,  evil  tidings  are  the  order  of  the  day — or 
disorder  one  should  call  it,  perhaps.  ...     I  have  a  list 
here  of  the  happenings  of  the  last  twenty-four  hours.  .  .  . 
(He  opens  a  portfolio.') 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Is  it  the  usual  menu?  Telegraph-poles  pulled  down, 
telephone  wires  cut  ?  Thanks,  you  need  not  trouble  your- 
self as  to  those  things.  Have  you  nothing  of  extraor- 
dinary interest  to  report  ? 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 
Indeed,  I  have.     A  dynamite  bomb  was  discovered  in 
the  Eastern  Station  two  hours  ago.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  know  that  already.  The  clockwork  of  the  bomb  was 
set  for  eleven. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 
Yes,  it  might  have  blown  up  the  whole  building.  .  .  . 


66  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  that  it  could  not  have  done.  .  .  .  There  was  a 
fault  in  the  mechanism  that  would  have  prevented  the 
explosion.  It  is  the  same  with  this  attempt  as  with  the 
others  before — only  botch  work,  carried  out  by  irrespon- 
sible individuals.  .  .  .  Just  as  with  the  small  attempts 
at  sabotage  here  and  there — nothing  but  child's  play, 
nothing  of  any  weight. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 
At  any  rate,  the  sabotage  is  harmful  enough. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  but  if  there  were  any  organization  behind  it,  it 
would  be  managed  much  more  forcibly.  No,  the  leaders 
themselves  are  trying  to  prevent  havoc. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 

In  the  end  they  will  have  to  relinquish  all  hope  of  bring- 
ing the  rank  and  file  to  its  senses,  for  the  fermentation 
grows  stronger  every  day.  There  were  many  collisions 
yesterday.  The  non-striking  workmen  have  had  vitriol 
thrown  over  them  and  blood  has  been  shed  several  times. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

They  simply  have  not  shed  enough  blood.  All  these 
rows  are  patchwork  — there  must  be  more  of  it  before  we 


ACT  ii  ROBERT    FRANK  67 

can  lift  our  arms  for  the  decisive  blow.  The  frenzy  has 
not  developed  with  the  rapidity  that  was  indicated  at  first. 
.  .  .  Do  you  remember  what  violent  excitement  there  was 
before  the  strike  broke  out?  And  I  let  the  rioters  caper 
at  will — now,  come,  confess  that  you  wondered  at  my 
patience.  .  .  . 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 
Yes,  to  speak  plainly,  all  of  us  wondered. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  held  myself  in  abeyance  because  I  thought  the  abscess 
would  ripen  all  the  sooner  in  that  way.  But  I  was  mis- 
taken. Almost  as  soon  as  the  general  strike  was  pro- 
claimed, the  syndicalist  leaders  changed  their  tactics  and 
advised  caution.  They  are  wise  enough  to  know  that 
they  become  the  weaker  party  the  moment  they  give  us 
an  opportunity  to  use  military  force. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 
And  yet  any  other  outcome  than  that  fanaticism  will 
prevail  is  not  possible.     The  exasperation  has  risen  several 
degrees  since  the  railroad  men  subject  to  conscription  were 
put  into  compulsory  service. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  they  did  not  believe  we  would  dare  take  that  step. 
And  it  was  somewhat  hazardous,  for  suppose  the  strikers 


68  ROBERTFRANK  ACTII 

had  returned  the  compliment  with  a  general  refusal.  But 
how  far  can  we  reach  with  this  makeshift?  Can  you 
manage  more  than  half  of  the  usual  traffic  ? 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 
Hardly  that  even.  But  even  if  we  keep  things  going 
for  a  time,  it  is  bound  to  end  with  our  having  to  stop  the 
trains  for  lack  of  coal.  There  are  not  enough  supplies 
on  hand — another  consequence  of  this  cursed  strike.  I 
hardly  dare  think  of  what  will  happen  then.  Even  now 
there  is  a  dearth  of  all  sorts  of  necessities.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Clearly  it  is  no  pleasure  to  be  minister  of  public  works 
these  days.  Mails  have  become  irregular  and  I  suppose 
you  do  not  dare  answer  for  telegraph  and  telephone  any 
longer,  either. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 
No,  the  strike's  contagion  is  spreading  everywhere. 
Even  the  office  clerks  are  threatening  to  join  the  workmen 
— they  are  dissatisfied  with  their  circumstances  and  are 
using  the  situation  in  order  to  make  impossible  demands. 
And  the  municipal  works  are  beginning  to  close,  too:  gas- 
works, electric  works,  one  after  another.  .  .  .  Good  God, 
what  a  future  is  facing  us !  Without  mechanical  power, 
without  light,  without  supplies  of  food !  Famine,  epi- 
demic, revolution,  ruin.  .  .  . 


ACT  ii  ROBERT    FRANK  69 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Stop,  my  dear  colleague,  stop!  You  are  a  new  Jere- 
miah with  this  voluptuous  wallowing  in  lamentations  !  If 
you  keep  this  up  we  shall  both  end  by  committing  suicide. 
.  .  .  Certainly,  things  do  look  awkward  but,  believe  me, 
in  spite  of  everything,  we  need  not  despair. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 
Perhaps  not  yet.     But  if  things  go  as  far  as  we  have 
every  reason  for  fearing  they  will  go  ... 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
We  simply  shall  not  allow  them  to  go  so  far. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 
But  how  can  we  stop  it  ? 

THE  JANITOR  (appearing,  announces). 
His  Excellency,  the  Minister  of  War.     (The  MINISTER 
OF  WAR  comes  in,  shakes  hands  with  the  others,  and  sits 
down.) 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 

I  have  just  come  from  the  castle.  I  was  summoned  to 
an  audience. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
And  what  was  talked  about  there? 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 
His  Majesty  is  very  anxious  over  the  state  of  affairs. 


70  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Oh,  he  is  always  that.  But  he  surely  did  not  send  for 
you  just  to  talk  about  his  troubles  in  general.  It  was 
probably  a  special  matter,  was  it  not  ? 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 

Yes.  It  is  the  edict  about  the  state  of  siege  that  worries 
His  Majesty.  His  august  self  hoped  that  it  would  not  be 
put  into  effect  and  declared  that  could  it  be  avoided  in 
any  way  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
And  you  entered  into  a  discussion  of  this  question  ? 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAB. 

I  could  not  very  well  decline  to  do  so  when  His  Majesty 
opened  the  subject. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Hm.  .  .  .  You  know  well,  my  good  general,  that  I 
consider  it  rather  unfortunate  for  my  department  ministers 
to  express  themselves  on  political  questions  when  I  am 
not  present.  .  .  .  Well,  and  what  was  the  matter  with 
the  edict  ?  Why  should  it  not  be  put  into  effect  ? 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 

His  Majesty  said  that  he  had  really  never  intended 
signing  it.  He  had  been  led  to  do  it  by  being  first  taken 


ACTII  ROBERT    FRANK  71 

off  his  guard.  ...     I  beg  pardon,  but  I  am  simply  repeat- 
ing the  expression  he  himself  used. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Don't  mention  it.  I  am  so  accustomed  to  having  the 
old  gentleman  attribute  almost  anything  to  me  that  I 
am  no.t  affected  by  it  any  more.  .  .  .  Taken  off  his 
guard,  was  he?  Did  he  not  tell  you  then  how  he  hap- 
pened to  sign  the  document? 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 
I  was  not  informed  of  the  particular  circumstances. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  is  quite  true  that  he  resisted  in  the  beginning  every 
time  the  state  of  siege  question  came  up.  None  of  my 
remonstrances  bore  fruit.  But  then  the  demonstration  in 
front  of  the  American  embassy  took  place.  It  proved 
that  the  mob  did  not  even  recoil  from  insulting  the  am- 
bassador of  a  foreign  power.  That  affair  made  an  im- 
pression on  him  and  I  got  his  signature. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 
But  up  to  now  it  has  not  been  put  into  execution. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  I  left  the  date  blank  so  as  to  have  this  weapon  to 
fall  back  on  at  the  proper  moment.  I  have  waited  a  long 


72  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

time,  but  now  the  hour  has  come:  to-day  a  state  of  siege 
is  to  be  proclaimed  over  the  whole  country. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 
To-day? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
To-day  at  twelve  o'clock. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS. 
But  why  to-day,  especially  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Because  to-day  an  event  is  to  take  place  which  will  make 
it  necessary  to  resort  to  the  most  extreme  measures.  I 
shall  not  tell  you  now  what  it  is  to  be,  but  you  will  know 
soon  enough. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 

But  I  am  not  at  all  prepared  for  this !  I  must,  of  course, 
issue  instructions  to  the  military  commanders  instantly. 
But  what  directions  shall  I  give?  We  have  not  even 
conferred  about  it  yet ! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  is  quite  unnecessary  that  we  should.  7  have  given 
the  instructions.  They  were  sent  to  the  generals  in  com- 
mand a  little  while  ago. 


ACT  ii  ROBERT    FRANK  73 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 
You  don't  mean  that  they  were  sent  direct? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No;  of  course  through  the  intermediary  of  the  War 
Department.  I  had  the  division  chief  send  them  on  while 
you  were  at  the  castle.  There  was  no  time  to  be  lost  and, 
strictly  speaking,  the  matter  really  did  not  concern  you. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 
Not  concern  me  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Not  directly.  If  we  were  at  war  with  another  nation, 
I  would  not  contest  your  competence.  But  in  this  case  we 
are  confronted  by  internal  disorders  and,  therefore,  it  is 
the  Minister  for  Home  Affairs  who  must  decide  what  pro- 
visions are  to  be  made.  The  only  thing  the  War  Minister 
has  to  answer  for  is  that  the  troops  required  are  in  good 
condition.  And  I  rely  on  that's  being  the  case. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 

The  troops  are  excellent  in  every  respect.  The  syndi- 
calists might  have  spared  themselves  the  trouble  of  smug- 
gling their  newspapers  and  pamphlets  into  the  barracks. 
Of  course,  there  are  some  bad  specimens  among  the  sol- 
diers, but  the  general  tone  is  irreproachable. 


74  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

That  is  in  accord  with  the  information  I  have  received 
from  other  sources.  Then  there  is  no  reason  why  we 
should  not  go  straight  ahead  regardlessly. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 

No,  as  far  as  that  is  concerned  there  is  nothing  in  the 
way  .  .  .  not  from  that  point  of  view.  .  .  .  But  His  Maj- 
esty expressed  a  wish  that  I  must  mention.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
What  wish  was  that  ? 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 

His  Majesty  assumed  that  the  moment  for  the  state  of 
siege  was  approaching.  And  his  august  self  was  of  the 
opinion  that  the  riot  should,  in  as  far  as  possible,  be 
quelled  by  the  police  and  only  occasionally  by  the  military 
— in  exceptional  cases  only. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

And  the  reason  he  probably  gave  was  that  the  army 
ought  not  to  be  made  unpopular  by  using  it  against  the 
people. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 

Exactly  that.  And  His  Majesty  added  that,  if  it  should 
be  necessary  to  use  the  military,  at  least  it  must  be  seen 
to  that  they  proceed  with  all  possible  leniency. 


ACTII  ROBERT    FRANK  75 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Perhaps  they  are  to  march  out  with  the  fire  hose. 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 

Of  course,  in  my  own  mind  I  could  not  help  but  have  my 
humble  doubts.  But  I  certainly  could  not  say  so  right 
out.  I  am  an  old  officer,  and  when  I  stand  face  to  face 
with  the  head  of  the  army  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
What  head  of  the  army  ? 

THE  MINISTER  OP  WAB. 
I  don't  understand.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Come,  now!  Was  not  a  certain  august  lady  present 
during  the  audience? 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAB. 
Yes,  Her  Majesty  was  in  the  room. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Then  I  readily  understand  who  this  "head  of  the  army" 
was.  .  .  .  But  what  answer  did  you  give  to  this  strange 
demand  ? 

THE  MINISTER  OF  WAR. 

I  replied  that  His  Majesty's  wish  should  be  fulfilled  in 
as  far  as  it  stood  in  my  power. 


76  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  H 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

As  I  have  explained  to  you,  the  matter  lies  absolutely 
outside  of  your  domain.  The  promise  you  gave,  therefore, 
does  not  bind  you  in  the  least.  And  it  binds  me  just  as 
little,  for  it  was  not  made  on  my  behalf.  .  .  .  (He  rises.) 
Gentlemen,  I  have  nothing  more  to  say  to  you  at  present. 
(The  others  rise  also.)  But  I  request  you  to  meet  here  at 
two  o'clock  sharp  for  a  conference.  Our  other  colleagues 
have  also  received  a  summons.  We  shall  discuss  impor- 
tant questions.  .  .  .  (The  MINISTER  OF  PUBLIC  WORKS 
and  the  MINISTER  OF  WAR  retire.  WINKELMANN  comes  in.) 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Here  you  are  at  last.  Where  the  deuce  have  you  been 
so  long  ? 

WINKELMANN. 

Wasn't  it  you  yourself  that  sent  me  off?  Haven't  I 
had  to  trudge  all  the  way  to  the  East  End,  there  and  back 
on  foot  ?  You  know  well  enough  that  there  isn't  a  street- 
car nor  a  cab  to  be  had.  And  I  haven't  got  any  private 
automobile  at  my  disposal,  either.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  would  have  been  imprudent  to  show  yourself  in  an 
automobile  in  the  East  End  just  now,  even  if  you  had  one. 
You  would  have  been  too  conspicuous,  Leporello,  and  the 
East-Endites  might  have  become  offensive. 


ACTII  ROBERT    FRANK  77 

WlNKELMANN. 

They  were  that,  anyhow.  As  luck  would  have  it,  I  met 
a  fellow  who  knew  me — the  husband  of  a  charwoman  whom 
I  had  dismissed  for  laziness.  He  decided  to  avenge  him- 
self and  so  he  roared  to  those  who  were  standing  about: 
"Here  is  one  of  those  cursed  extortioners  who  skim  cream 
from  the  sweat  of  the  workmen."  Did  you  ever  hear  such 
nonsense  ?  I  wish  to  Heaven  it  had  been  true — what  he 
said  about  me,  but  7  certainly  have  never  skimmed  cream 
from  anything. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
And  then  what  happened  ? 

WlNKELMANN. 

Instantly  I  was  surrounded  by  a  raging  mob.  The 
worst  of  them  was  a  female  monster  without  a  nose,  who 
thrust  her  skeleton  mug  right  into  my  face  and  howled 
that  she  would  drink  my  heart's  blood.  I  can  still  smell 
the  stink  of  brandy  that  came  from  her  horrible  jaws. 
Whew  !  I  am  about  to  vomit.  .  .  .  Yes,  you  can  laugh 
all  right,  but  if  you  had  been  in  my  place  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Excuse  my  hilarity,  Leporello,  but  I  need  a  little  amuse- 
ment in  these  serious  times.  And  you  surely  don't  expect 
me  to  take  this  little  adventure  to  heart,  for  your  precious 
skin  has  been  saved,  I  see. 


78  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

WlNKELMANN. 

Just  barely.  At  the  last  moment  a  police  patrol  passed 
and  they  let  me  join  them.  I  was  on  my  way  home  then 
and  had  fortunately  finished  my  errand. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Well,  now,  let  us  come  to  the  point — you  did  find  the 
man  at  the  place  agreed  upon? 

WlNKELMANN. 

I  did  and  I  must  say  that  the  man  and  the  place  suited 
each  other  for  the  same  reason  that  a  hangman's  leer 
looks  well  in  a  murderer's  den.  Just  imagine  me,  a  former 
philologist  and  head  master,  obliged  to  have  anything  to 
do  with  that  sort  of  specimen.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Oh,  you  are  a  pretty  wily  old  rogue  yourself.  .  .  .  But 
let  us  hear  what  the  outcome  of  the  meeting  was.  Can 
he  really  be  of  any  use  to  us?  Was  there  anything  in 
these  papers  he  wants  to  sell  ? 

WlNKELMANN. 

He  insisted  that  they  contained  enough  proof  to  put 
all  the  syndicalist  leaders  in  jail.  But  I  read  them 
through  and  couldn't  see  anything  particularly  compro- 
mising in  them.  At  any  rate,  they  are  not  worth  the 


ACTII  ROBERT    FRANK  79 

shameless  price  he  asks.  I  told  him  so,  too,  but  he  gave  me 
such  an  ugly  look  that  I  hastened  to  promise  that  you 
would  take  the  offer  under  consideration.  And  mighty 
glad  I  was  when  I  escaped  from  his  hole.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  I  thought  right  away  that  the  whole  thing  was  hum- 
bug. There  are  certainly  proofs  to  be  had,  but  we  must 
look  some  place  else  for  them.  And  in  an  extremity  we 
can  do  without  them,  too.  .  .  .  Yes,  you  may  go  now, 
Leporello.  But  stay  in  the  anteroom,  because  I  want  you, 
and  not  the  janitor,  to  announce  the  visitors.  I  am  ex- 
pecting soon  a  most  weighty  deputation,  which  can  de- 
mand the  honor  of  being  introduced  by  nobody  else  than 
yourself,  my  most  worthy  private  secretary. 

WINKELMANN. 

Who  is  that? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  you  just  ought  to  know.  You  will  simply  fall 
backward.  .  .  .  No,  I  shan't  tell  you — I  want  you  to 
be  taken  by  surprise.  .  .  .  (WINKELMANN  goes  out,  but 
appears  immediately  afterward  at  the  door.) 

WINKELMANN. 
Pretorius  is  here  and  would  like  to  speak  with  you. 


80  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Let  him  come  in.  (WINKELMANN  retires  and  PRETO- 
RIUS  comes  in.)  Good  morning,  Pretorius.  How  can  I 
serve  you  ? 

PRETORIUS. 

First,  permit  me  to  ask  you  a  question.  This  building 
is  guarded  by  soldiers.  What  is  the  meaning  of  it  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
So  you  have  discovered  that. 

PRETORIUS. 

As  I  came  in  by  the  main  entrance,  I  saw  that  the  gate 
to  the  inner  court  was  open  for  a  moment.  It  was  closed 
immediately  afterward,  but  I  had  had  a  glimpse  of  a  de- 
tachment of  gendarmery  that  stood  marshalled  up  in  there. 
It  looks  as  though  you  expected  a  siege.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

If  I  expected  such  a  thing  I  certainly  would  not  content 
myself  with  that  handful  of  gendarmes  down  in  the  court- 
yard. Heaven  knows,  it  is  natural  enough  to  think  we 
need  a  guard  these  days.  But  don't  let  that  bother  you, 
Pretorius;  just  sit  down  and  tell  me  what  your  errand  is. 
(Both  seat  themselves  by  the  round  table  at  the  right.) 

PRETORIUS. 

I  come  here  as  an  emissary  from  the  Employers'  Union. 
There  was  a  meeting  of  the  leaders  last  night  and  they 


ACT  ii  ROBERT    FRANK  81 

agreed  unanimously  that  the  present  state  of  affairs  is 
untenable.  So  it  was  decided  that  the  government  should 
be  privately  requested  to  take  the  first  step  toward  medi- 
ation. The  employers  are  prepared  to  come  to  an  agree- 
ment. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
On  what  basis  ? 

PRETORIUS. 

Well,  on  that  point  they  were  not  yet  quite  clear.  But 
they  were  of  the  opinion  that  the  first  thing  to  be  done  was 
to  open  negotiations,  for  some  compromise  or  other  could 
always  be  hit  upon. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  do  not  see  that  there  is  room  for  compromise  here. 
What  the  struggle  is  concerned  with  is  a  question  of  power, 
on  which  the  employers  can  not  make  any  concessions 
without  at  the  same  time  surrendering  unconditionally. 

PRETORIUS. 
One  ought  at  least  to  let  it  be  put  to  the  test. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Even  if,  against  all  probability,  an  agreement  should  be 
reached,  it  would  simply  contain  the  germs  of  new  quar- 
rels. Or  do  you  imagine  that  the  syndicalists  will  rest  on 
their  laurels  satisfied  ?  This  time  they  say  to  the  employ- 


82  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

ers:  "You  will  be  permitted  to  use  unorganized  labor  to 
no  greater  extent  than  the  unions  approve."  The  next 
time  they  will  go  a  step  further  and  demand  that  the  or- 
ganized laborers  shall  have  full  and  undisputed  sway. 
The  point  is  that  they  will  force  the  labor  masses  one  and 
all  into  the  organizations  and  thereby  get  their  tenter- 
hooks into  every  business  undertaking.  Class  struggle 
will  continue  to  the  bitter  end.  .  .  .  No,  I  am  not  going 
to  help  prolong  that  misery.  I  will  not  take  part  in  any 
mediation. 

PRETORIUS. 

You  talk  exactly  as  if  there  were  a  choice  left  us.  But 
there  is  no  choice;  we  must  come  to  an  understanding  with 
the  strikers  or  a  national  catastrophe  will  come  to  pass. 
Remember !  All  our  chief  industries  are  just  about  par- 
alyzed: coal-mines  and  mineral  works  are  apparently  ex- 
tinct, the  brass  works  are  closed,  the  woollen  mills,  too. 
In  one  place  it  is  the  laborers  that  are  lacking,  in  another 
the  raw  material  or  the  fuel  is  giving  out.  And  in  the 
meantime,  foreign  competition  gets  our  orders  and  sup- 
plants us  in  the  market.  Just  the  one  week  during  which 
the  strike  has  lasted  has  brought  incalculable  harm  on 
the  country — eight  days  more,  and  we  must  face  the  crash. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  know  all  this  just  as  well  as  you  do.  But  within 
eight  days,  the  situation  will  have  changed. 


ACT  ii  ROBERT    FRANK  83 

PRETORITJS. 

There  is  certainly  no  time  to  lose,  for  the  panic  has 
already  begun.  Capital  is  fleeing  the  country,  people  are 
storming  the  banks,  even  the  savings-banks.  Shares  in  in- 
dustries are  going  down — I  myself  have  lost  quite  a  con- 
siderable sum  in  the  falling  market.  ...  If  I  could  only 
realize  my  papers  before  they  become  quite  worthless.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

If  you  follow  my  advice,  you  will  not  sell,  but  do  the 
opposite — buy.  You  will  make  a  brilliant  deal  by  it,  for 
shares  in  industries  will  soon  rise  again. 

PRETORIUS. 
Are  you  buying  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  of  course  not.  It  would  be  improper  for  me  while 
I  am  minister  to  speculate  on  the  exchange,  especially 
when  I  am  myself  influencing  the  market.  But,  of  course, 
I  can  always  give  others  a  friendly  hint. 

PRETORIUS. 

You  think,  then,  that  things  are  going  to  take  a  favor- 
able turn?  Well  enough,  but  where  did  you  get  this  en- 
couraging hope  ?  Have  you  by  chance  a  magician's  wand 
hidden  about  you  ?  For  in  this  matter  you  certainly  can 
do  nothing  by  the  exercise  of  power.  What  is  so  desper- 
ate hi  the  present  state  of  affairs  is  that  it  is  impossible  to 


84  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  11 

get  at  these  people.     For  they  aren't  doing  anything  ex- 
cept making  use  of  their  right  not  to  work. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Certainly  the  syndicalists'  position  is  unassailable  so 
long  as  they  keep  within  the  limits  of  the  law. 

PRETORITIS. 

And  they  are  not  going  to  let  themselves  be  lured  out- 
side of  it,  either.  They  will  not  do  you  that  service. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  forget  one  thing — when  the  mountain  will  not  come 
to  Mohammed,  Mohammed  must  go  to  the  mountain. 

PRETORIUS. 
That  I  do  not  understand. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
You  will  very  soon  come  to  understand  it. 

WINKELMANN  (comes  in). 

A  young  lady  has  been  waiting  for  some  time  in  the 
anteroom.  She  wants  me  to  ask  if  she  may  come  back 
later  and  what  hour  would  be  convenient.  (He  gives 
ROBERT  FRANK  a  visiting  card.) 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

(Glances  at  the  card,  rises  and  goes,  to  the  door,  which  he 
opens.)  I  beg  you  to  come  in,  Miss  Cameron.  I  am  ex- 


ACTII  ROBERT    FRANK  85 

tremely  sorry  that  you  have  had  to  wait.     Had  I  had  the 
least  idea  that  you  were  there  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON  (appears  at  the  door}. 
But  am  I  not  disturbing  you?     You  gentlemen  were 
doubtless  deep  in  a  conference.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

To  receive  a  visit  from  you  is  of  much  greater  conse- 
quence than  all  the  conferences  in  the  world.  (WiNKEL- 
MANN  goes  out.  PRETORIUS  has  risen;  salutations  are  ex- 
changed. ROBERT  FRANK  offers  JULIA  CAMERON  an  arm- 
chair, and  all  three  seat  themselves.) 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

I  must  really  beg  forgiveness  for  my  obtrusion.  But  we 
journalists  cannot  always  be  so  considerate  as  we  should 
like.  My  paper  in  New  York  has  sent  me  a  cablegram 
that  necessitates  my  coming  here. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Necessitates  ?  Do  you  think,  then,  that  it  is  so  dis- 
agreeable to  come  to  see  me  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Naturally,  I  hesitate  to  do  so  when  I  know  how  dread- 
fully busy  you  must  be  these  days.  You  have  more  im- 
portant things  to  occupy  you  than  giving  information  to  a 
newspaper  correspondent. 


86  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  shall  give  you  all  the  information  you  want  with  much 
pleasure.  I  will  do  more  than  that.  I  will  give  you  an 
opportunity  of  outdistancing  all  the  other  correspondents. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Oh,  how  nice  of  you !    But  how  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

In  a  little  while  there  is  to  take  place  here  in  this  room 
an  interview  that  will  be  decisive  for  the  course  of  events. 
If  you  wish,  you  may  be  present  as  eye  and  ear  witness. 
.  .  .  You,  too,  Pretorius,  as  long  as  you  are  already 
here. 

PHETORITTS. 
An  interview  you  say  ?    With  whom  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

With  the  Syndicalists'  Council  of  Ten.  Levinski  sent 
me  a  message  last  night  to  the  effect  that  he  and  his  col- 
leagues wished  to  meet  me  here  at  noon.  So  I  am  expect- 
ing them  at  any  moment. 

PRETORIUS. 

And  you  haven't  told  me  before !  But  then  the  matter 
is  by  no  means  so  hopeless !  They,  too,  will  doubtless 
make  terms — they  as  well  as  the  employers.  And  so  they 


ACT  ii  ROBERT    FRANK  87 

are   coming   to   ask   the   government   to   mediate.     And 
when  both  parties  ask  it,  you  cannot  possibly  refuse. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Pretorius,  how  can  you  be  so  naif  ?  If  they  were  going 
to  ask  for  fair-weather  terms,  they  would  do  so  through 
an  intermediary  and  not  appear  here  themselves  with  a 
flourish  of  trumpets.  When  Levinski  arranges  this  kind 
of  procession  with  the  Council  of  Ten  in  corpore,  you  may 
be  sure  he  is  simply  striking  an  attitude  in  order  to  thunder 
forth  an  ultimatum. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

I  was  with  Mr.  Leviaski  yesterday  and  he  said  then  that 
no  power  on  earth  could  prevent  the  syndicalists  from 
reaching  the  result  they  want. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  hear,  Pretorius.  ...  So  you  have  talked  with 
Levinski.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Yes,  several  times. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Several  times,  even  ?  But  you  have  not  come  to  me  be- 
fore to-day.  .  .  .  And  what  impression  have  you  received 
of  him? 


88  ROBERT    FRANK  ACTII 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

I  am  really  undecided.  At  least  he  is  interesting — some- 
what of  a  charmeur.  Everybody  says,  indeed,  that  he 
resembles  Lassalle. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

At  least  he  does  outwardly.  And  it  pleases  him  to  cul- 
tivate that  likeness,  too.  For  he  undoubtedly  has  one 
quality  in  common  with  Lassalle — monstrous  vanity.  .  .  . 
You  called  him  a  charmeur,  Miss  Cameron.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Perhaps  "charmeur"  is  not  the  right  word.  But  we 
Americans  have  an  expression  that  is  more  suitable — we 
should  say  of  a  leader  like  Mr.  Levinski  that  he  has 
magnetism. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Magnetism  for  the  crowd — quite  true.  The  sounding 
phrase,  the  cock-sure  self-confidence,  the  brutal  fanaticism 
— these  are  always  attractive  to  the  masses.  But  it  is 
difficult  for  me  to  comprehend  that  they  should  have 
an  influence  on  you. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

What  influences  me  is  his  intense  personality.  He 
doubtless  is  vain,  as  you  say,  and  he  is  a  phrase  maker,  too. 
But  one  is  always  aware  of  the  fervid  soul  that  lies  behind 


ACT  ii  ROBERT    FRANK  89 

his  small  weaknesses.  He  is  aglow  with  a  faith  for  which 
he  would  gladly  die.  If  you  could  only  see  him  as  a 
martyr.  .  .  .  Yes,  he  ought  to  become  a  martyr. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Ought  he  to  become  a  martyr  ?    Why  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes,  because  as  a  martyr  the  heroic  in  him  would  come 
to  light — his  greatness  would  reveal  itself  completely. 

ROBERT  FRANK 

It  seems  as  though  you  are  fascinated  by  him,  Miss 
Cameron. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

There  is  something  fascinating  about  him — that  I  do 
not  deny. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Then  he  has  probably  succeeded  in  converting  you  to 
syndicalism?  Though  perhaps  conversion  was  not  so 
difficult  with  the  opinions  you  already  held.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

I  don't  know  that  the  syndicalists  would  acknowledge 
me  as  one  of  theirs.  But  I  must  confess  many  things  that 
I  have  seen  and  heard  among  them  since  I  have  been  about 
in  this  country  have  affected  me  deeply. 


90  ROBERT    FRANK  ACTII 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Have  you  been  travelling  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Mr.  Levinski  advised  me  to.  ... 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Mr.  Levinski  again.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

I  have  visited  the  industrial  towns  and  been  present  at 
the  laborers'  meetings  and  talked  with  them  in  their 
homes,  both  with  them  and  with  their  wives.  They  are  all 
suffering  from  want,  for  the  contributions  from  the  strikers' 
funds  do  not  reach  far,  and  there  is  a  dearth  of  everything 
as  well.  But,  nevertheless,  there  is  no  impatience,  not  the 
least  thought  of  defection.  On  the  contrary,  there  is  a 
harmony  and  discipline  that  we  others  might  model  our- 
selves after. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Oh,  I  know  well  enough :  when  the  Council  of  Ten  sends 
out  an  order,  they  obey  like  a  file  of  soldiers. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
But  do  you  not  consider  that  admirable  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Oh,  it  is  not  so  remarkable.  Remember  that  obedience 
is  in  the  blood  of  the  lower  classes.  They  have  been 


ACT  ii  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  91 

trained  to  duck  from  childhood — a  necessary  accompani- 
ment of  economic  dependence.  They  used  to  obey  the 
representatives  of  the  upper  classes,  while  now  they  allow 
the  Syndicalist  Committee  to  order  them  about. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes,  but  that  difference  is  an  enormous  one.  Their 
obedience  is  no  longer  blind;  now  they  subordinate  them- 
selves with  an  object  in  view — they  know  that  they  must 
if  they  are  to  struggle  forward  to  freedom  and  equality. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
To  equality,  yes,  but  not  to  freedom. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

I  think  you  do  the  workmen  injustice.  Until  we  have 
talked  with  them  we  have  no  idea  of  what  a  fund  of  ideal- 
ism there  is  in  the  whole  movement. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  should  rather  say  that  the  movement  is  materialistic. 
For  what  is  it  that  all  the  thoughts  and  aspirations  of 
these  people  look  to  ?  A  state  of  things  with  the  highest 
wages  possible  and  the  shortest  work-day  possible.  In  ad- 
dition, cheap  dwellings,  free  dispensaries,  support  in  old 
age  and  all  the  other  conveniences  a  feeble  imagination  can 
picture.  That  is  the  way  things  are  in  their  promised 
land. 


92  ROBERT     FRANK  ACT  n 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

And  can  one  blame  them  for  wanting  these  things, 
with  their  position  so  uncertain  and  full  of  anxiety? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  I  do  not  blame  them  for  that.  On  the  contrary, 
what  I  think  is  the  matter  with  them  is  that  they  do  not 
demand  enough. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

In  time  they  will  doubtless  aim  at  a  higher  goal.  But 
first  they  must  try  to  improve  their  conditions. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Of  course  they  must.  But  let  us  look  on  the  matter  as 
the  quite  natural  thing  it  is  and  not  attribute  to  it  a  greater 
significance  than  it  has.  The  workmen's  programme  is 
made  as  much  of  as  if  it  had  furnished  the  whole  of  society 
with  a  new  gospel. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes,  but  it  is  a  certain  kind  of  gospel,  too — a  message  of 
salvation. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

But  salvation  cannot  come  from  those  who  need  help 
themselves.  It  is  a  mental  aberration  to  believe  that  it  is 
the  proletarians  that  can  bring  about  a  social  renaissance. 


ACT  ii  ROBERT    FRANK  93 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

No,  not  the  proletarians  as  they  are,  but  the  spirit  that 
is  going  to  bring  brighter  days  to  the  proletarians.  It  is 
sympathy,  self-sacrifice,  the  longing  to  do  good  unto  others 
that  will  cause  society  to  be  born  again.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Do  good  unto  others — do  you  know  whom  I  consider 
the  true  benefactors?  The  great  egoists  that  have  been 
occupied  exclusively  with  their  own  life-work.  Each  one 
of  these  has  done  more  for  human  progress  than  all  the 
hospital  nurses  of  all  the  centuries  put  together. 

PRETORIUS. 

Miss  Cameron,  with  certain  reservations,  I  must  de- 
clare that  I  agree  with  my  friend  Frank  in  all  essentials. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  I  understand  and  appreciate  your 
standpoint,  though  it  is  just  the  contrary. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
As  always,  you  are  the  angel  of  conciliation. 

WiNKELMANN  (comes  rushing  in). 

Levinski  and  the  others  are  in  the  anteroom — the  entire 
Council  of  Ten.  .  .  .  They  demand  to  see  you !  What 
shall  I  do  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Why  are  you  trembling  ?  Just  let  them  in.  They  are 
not  going  to  eat  us.  (WINKELMANN  goes  out.  ROBERT 


94  ROBERT    FRANK  ACTII 

FRANK  and  PBETORITIS  rise.  LEVINSKI  and  the  other 
members  of  the  Council  of  Ten  come  in.  They  take  up 
positions  at  the  left,  LEVINSKI  in  front.) 

LEVINSKI. 

Robert  Frank,  there  are  moments  when  we  feel  as 
though  history  were  knocking  at  our  doors;  we  are  now 
passing  through  such  an  hour  of  visitation.  And  we 
are  not  alone  in  appreciating  the  significance  of  the  situa- 
tion; the  eyes  of  the  entire  world  are  fastened  on  this 
land.  Proletarians  and  capitalists  alike  await,  in  breath- 
less excitement,  the  outcome  of  this  strike,  which  in  extent 
and  consequences  is  without  parallel. 

In  the  struggle  which  is  now  being  carried  on  the  chances 
seem  to  be  very  unequally  divided.  We  possess  nothing 
but  our  faith  and  our  enthusiasm,  you  have  at  your  com- 
mand both  money  power  and  military  power — you  have 
gold  on  your  side,  you  have  steel  on  your  side.  And  yet 
it  is  we  who  are  going  to  triumph.  For  of  what  use  is  gold 
when  indispensable  labor  will  not  permit  itself  to  be 
bought,  and  of  what  use  is  steel  when  the  strikers  will  not 
give  you  an  excuse  to  use  it? 

We  no  longer  build  barricades — we  are  not  so  naif.  We 
have  discovered  a  more  effectual  method  of  gaining  our 
point:  the  serene  tactics  of  the  folded  arms.  We  already 
see  results:  capitalism  is  slowly  dying  of  sheer  anaemia, and 
it  will  soon  come  to  us  begging  for  peace — it  cannot  do 


ACTII  ROBERT    FRANK  95 

otherwise;  it  is  only  a  question  of  time.  He  who  cannot 
foresee  the  approaching  triumph  of  the  proletariat  must 
be  blind,  indeed. 

And  you  do  foresee  this,  too,  Robert  Frank,  but  you  are 
trying  to  postpone  the  unavoidable  issue.  A  hopeless  en- 
terprise on  which  I  would  never  waste  a  word,  were  it  not 
that  you  have  gone  about  this  in  a  way  that  must  provoke 
the  sharpest  protest. 

Do  I  need  to  tell  you  to  what  I  am  alluding  ?  The  gov- 
ernment has  many  sins  on  its  conscience,  but  the  most  hide- 
ous of  them  all  is  that  crime  which  it  has  just  com- 
mitted toward  our  comrades  of  the  railroads.  These  men 
had  laid  down  their  work — which  they  had  a  full  right  to 
do — no  objection  could  be  raised  either  morally  or  juridi- 
cally. And  so  the  government  resorts  to  a  shameful  trick. 
A  mobilization  order  transforms  the  strikers  subject  to 
conscription  into  soldiers  and  under  threats  of  discretion- 
ary punishment  they  are  put  in  the  railroad  service  against 
their  will  and  in  opposition  to  their  convictions. 

This  method  of  procedure  has  filled  us  with  loathing 
and  anger.  We  ourselves  have  not  departed  one  inch  from 
the  law's  domain;  but  we  have  no  intention  of  allowing  our 
opponents  to  fight  us  with  the  help  of  chicanery — chi- 
canery just  as  perfidiously  planned  as  it  was  brutally  car- 
ried out — and  the  Council  of  Ten  has  come  here  to-day  to 
demand  that  the  government  instantly  recall  this  indefen- 
sible order  and  give  back  their  freedom  to  our  mistreated 
comrades.  Beware  of  refusing  this  our  request — do  not 


96  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

forget  that  we  speak  in  the  name  of  the  entire  army  of 
workmen. 

Robert  Frank,  we  await  your  reply. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  make  the  statement  that  you  speak  in  the  name  of 
the  entire  army  of  workmen.  In  reference  to  this,  I  will 
remind  you  that  only  forty  per  cent  of  the  workmen  are 
on  strike,  and  therefore  the  Council  of  Ten  represents 
only  a  minority. 

LEVINSKI. 

But  this  minority  is  struggling  for  the  true  interests  of 
the  workmen  and  it  forms  a  force  with  which  those  in 
power  must  reckon.  When  forty  per  cent  of  all  laborers 
strike,  that  is  quite  enough  to  threaten  the  whole  business 
life  of  the  country  with  ruin. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  acknowledge  that.  But  as  I,  for  my  part,  do  not  wish 
that  business  life  shall  be  ruined,  it  goes  without  saying 
that  I  have  made  provisions  to  the  contrary.  I  must  es- 
pecially take  care  that  the  trains  are  kept  running,  and 
therefore  I  have  not  the  least  intention  of  recalling  the 
order  that  has  roused  your  displeasure. 

LEVINSKI. 

Have  you  also  considered  that  this  experiment  is  a  dan- 
gerous one  ?  In  your  place,  I  should  think  twice  before  I 


ACT  ii  ROBERT    FRANK  97 

permitted  traffic  to  be  looked  after  by  summonsed  syndi- 
calists. In  that  way,  the  railroads  may  soon  become  an 
unsafe  method  of  transportation. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  am  prepared  to  expect  that;  in  the  beginning,  there 
will  be  cases  of  both  sabotage  and  still  worse  things.  But 
I  will  guarantee  that  such  an  example  will  be  made  of 
every  man  that  is  caught  that  the  others  will  not  have  any 
desire  to  continue. 

A  SYNDICALIST. 

Why  not  say  it  straight  out — you  will  simply  have  him 
shot? 

ANOTHER  SYNDICALIST. 

Certainly  he  will.  Even  if  it  should  be  a  workman  with 
wife  and  children.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

A  workman  with  wife  and  children  should  not  enter 
upon  that  sort  of  adventure.  If  he  does  so  anyhow,  then 
he  must  take  the  consequences. 

FIRST  SYNDICALIST. 

And  such  people  try  to  make  us  believe  that  they  have 
sympathy  with  us  workmen. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  have  never  stated  that  I  have  any  sympathy  with  the 
workmen. 


98  ROBERT    FRANK  ACTII 

FIRST  SYNDICALIST. 
God  help  us,  he  says  it  straight  out. 

SECOND  SYNDICALIST. 
Well,  such  bravado !  .  .  . 

LEVTNSKI. 

We  shall  not  fail  to  make  the  public  acquainted  with 
that  shameless  confession.  You  have  held  out  to  the 
workmen  the  hope  that  they  were  to  share  profits  with  the 
owners.  Now  every  one  will  be  able  to  see  how  much 
your  bill  is  worth.  You  have  thrown  away  the  mask  of 
friendliness  to  labor  and  acknowledge  that  the  heart  plays 
no  role  in  your  social  policy. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  did  not  need  any  particular  warm-heartedness  in  order 
to  originate  my  bill — only  a  little  intelligence.  It  does  not 
take  much  brains  to  know  that  all  these  conflicts  do  not 
help  industry  but  that  what  is  necessary  is  harmonious 
co-operation  between  capital  and  labor.  And  I  want  to 
give  the  workmen  partnership  and  a  share  of  the  profits  in 
order  to  secure  this  co-operation.  Both  parties  would  be 
the  gainers  by  that. 

FIRST  SYNDICALIST. 
Maybe  so — but  the  employers  the  most,  eh  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Undoubtedly,  the  employers  would  derive  benefit  from  it. 


ACTII  ROBERT    FRANK  99 

FIRST  SYNDICALIST. 
Thanks,  we  won't  have  any  of  that. 

SECOND  SYNDICALIST. 

No,  by  Heaven,  they  shan't  rake  in  any  more  than 
they've  got  now.  For  that's  the  object  of  this  law,  isn't 
it? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

The  object  is  to  secure  tranquillity  for  labor  through- 
out the  country. 

FIRST  SYNDICALIST. 

Well,  but  we  don't  want  tranquillity !  The  fight  must 
take  its  own  course.  .  .  .  You  think  you  can  smooth  us 
down  with  your  "profit  sharing."  Oh,  no,  we  are  not 
going  to  content  ourselves  any  longer  with  crumbs  from 
rich  men's  tables.  We  will  have  the  whole  thing;  for  we 
workmen  are  the  ones  that  shoulder  the  burden,  and  so 
we  are  the  ones  that  will  do  the  directing  and  managing. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Workmen  are  not  fit  to  direct  and  manage.  They  can 
tear  down,  but  they  cannot  build  up  again.  They  could 
probably  succeed  in  ruining  the  rich,  but  that  would  not 
make  the  poor  prosperous.  The  result  would  be  only  con- 
fusion and  failure.  (A  murmur  from  the  SYNDICALISTS.) 


100  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  ACT  n 

LEVTNSKI. 

We  can  talk  of  the  result  when  the  time  comes.  We 
shall  not  have  to  wait  long  for  it,  for  I  can  inform  you  that 
the  fulness  of  time  is  at  hand.  The  great  laboring  people 
demand  their  place  in  the  sunshine;  they  will  no  longer 
allow  themselves  to  be  excluded  by  a  few  privileged  ones; 
they  will  no  longer  live  and  suffer  for  the  enrichment  of  the 
extortioners.  There  has  accumulated  in  the  depth  of  the 
masses  explosive  material  that  is  stronger  than  powder 
and  dynamite:  an  unconquerable  desire  to  rise  against  in- 
justice, a  holy  indignation  that  is  going  to  lay  in  ashes  the 
social  fabric  of  the  extortioners.  No  minister  will  be  able 
to  prevent  this — neither  you,  Robert  Frank,  nor  any  other 
hireling  of  infamous  capital. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  have  my  suspicions  as  to  what  it  is  that  makes  capital 
so  infamous  in  the  eyes  of  certain  men.  I  wonder  if  it  is 
not  usually  the  circumstance  that  they  have  not  any  of  it 
themselves.  (An  outburst  of  anger  from  the  SYNDICALISTS.) 

LEVINSKI. 

Comrades,  let  us  reply  to  these  low  insinuations  of  the 
Prime  Minister  not  with  interruptions  but  with  silent  con- 
tempt. Let  us  quietly  listen  while  he  continues  to  sneer 
at  us:  it  will  only  steel  our  revolutionary  will  all  the 
more. 


ACT  ii  ROBERT    FRANK  101 

FIRST  SYNDICALIST. 

No,  by  Heaven  !  We  don't  care  about  being  steeled  in 
that  way — letting  him  stand  there  and  insult  us  to  our 
faces ! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  do  no  more  than  express  my  sincere  opinion.  If  what 
I  say  is  distasteful  to  you,  please  remember  that  it  was  not 
I  who  requested  this  meeting.  .  .  .  Anyhow,  it  has  lasted 
longer  than  necessary.  I  have  already  given  the  reply 
you  demanded,  and  so  I  do  not  think  there  is  anything 
more  to  discuss.  We  shall  never  agree,  anyhow. 

LEVINSKI. 

No,  we  see  plainly  that  between  you  and  us  there  is  a 
chasm  over  which  a  bridge  can  never  be  built.  .  .  .  Now 
we  are  going;  but  you  will  live  to  see  that  I  speak  truth — 
we  shall  see  each  other  again,  Robert  Frank,  we  shall  meet 
at  Philippi.  (LEVINSKI  and  the  other  members  of  the  COUN- 
CIL OF  TEN  withdraw.) 

PRETORIUS. 

Thank  God,  that  is  over!  I  stood  the  whole  time  per- 
spiring with  anxiety  over  what  this  exchange  of  words 
might  lead  to.  One  moment  I  was  really  afraid  that  it 
would  come  to  blows.  But  I  must  say  you  were  pretty 
blunt  in  your  expressions.  And  there  was  one  thing  you 
should  absolutely  not  have  said — that  about  warm-heart- 
edness. Why  on  earth  did  you  do  it? 


102  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
What  did  you  say,  Pretorius  ?     I  was  not  listening.  .  .  . 

PRETORIUS. 

I  said  it  was  imprudent  of  you  to  talk  as  though  you 
had  no  feeling  for  the  workmen.  It  will  go  further,  of 
course,  and  all  your  opponents  will  use  it  against  you. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  have  made  greater  efforts  for  the  cause  of  the  workmen 
by  my  bill  than  any  of  my  opponents. 

PRETORIUS. 

Yes,  perhaps  you  have,  but  what  good  is  that  when 
people  do  not  believe  you  did  it  from  sympathy?  The 
public  demands  of  its  leaders  that  they  have  a  throbbing 
heart.  It  belongs,  so  to  speak,  to  a  modern  politician's 
equipment. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Does  your  heart  throb  for  the  workmen,  Pretorius  ? 

PRETORIUS. 

My  heart  has  had  to  throb  for  them  since  they  got  the 
right  to  vote — for  them  and  for  all  the  other  voters,  whom 
I,  as  a  politician,  have  to  take  into  account.  And  you, 
too,  ought  to  lay  stress  on  warm-heartedness — at  least 
you  ought  not  to  deny  it  openly.  .  .  .  But  you  are  not 


ACT  ii  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  103 

hearing  a  word  of  what  I  am  saying.  You  are  so  absent- 
minded.  What  is  it  you  are  listening  to?  (WiNKEL- 
MANN  rushes  in.  Through  the  door,  which  he  leaves  open, 
comes  a  noise  of  loud  voices  quarrelling  far  away.) 

WlNKELMANN. 

Something  is  happening  out  in  the  vestibule.  It  must 
be  the  syndicalists  up  to  something !  I  did  not  dare  look 
out,  for  there  is  a  tramping  and  shouting  going  on  there,  as 
if  a  horde  of  wild  men  were  loose ! 

PRETORIUS. 

Great  God !  What  does  this  mean?  Do  you  suppose 
they  are  going  to  pull  everything  down  about  our  ears? 
.  .  .  You  exasperated  them,  Frank — the  only  thing 
wanting  now  is  for  them  to  use  violence  on  us ! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
No  fear  of  that.  .  .  .     Now  the  noise  is  ceasing.  .  .  . 

PRETORIUS. 
Yes,  it  really  is.    They  have  gone  away.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
No,  they  are  still  here — but  under  safe-keeping. 

PRETORIUS. 
Safe-keeping  ? 


104  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

THE  OFFICER  ON  DUTY  (comes  in). 
I  beg  to  announce  that  your  Excellency's  orders  have 
been  carried  out.  While  the  syndicalists  were  having 
their  audience,  I  placed  my  platoon  in  the  vestibule  as 
commanded.  When  they  came  out  they  were  overpow- 
ered without  much  difficulty.  There  was  some  resistance, 
but  not  such  as  to  cause  any  one  to  be  injured.  According 
to  your  Excellency's  order,  they  are  now  in  the  library 
under  lock  and  key. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
And  the  transportation  to  prison  ? 

THE  OFFICER. 

It  will  soon  take  place.  The  patrol-wagons  and  escort 
are  on  the  way  already.  A  telephone  message  has  just 
come. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
That  is  good. 

THE  OFFICER. 

There  is  one  thing  I  must  take  the  liberty  of  reporting. 
The  prisoner  Levinski  insists  on  being  brought  into  your 
Excellency's  presence.  He  declares  that  it  is  of  great 
importance. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Does  he?    Well,  let  him  come  in,  then. 


ACTH  ROBERT    FRANK  105 

THE  OFFICER. 

He  should  be  accompanied  by  one  or  two  of  my  men, 
should  he  not  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Of  course.  But  I  will  not  have  your  men  in  here.  Say 
to  the  gendarmes  that  they  may  wait  in  the  anteroom 
while  I  am  talking  with  him. 

THE  OFFICER. 
Very  well,  your  Excellency.     (He  goes  out.) 

PRETORIUS. 

Do  you  not  think  this  rather  ill  advised  ?  Who  knows 
what  that  desperate  creature  may  hit  upon !  He  has 
probably  got  a  revolver  on  him.  You  really  ought  to  let 
the  gendarmes  accompany  him  in  here ! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

That  would  not  be  befitting  either  for  him  or  for  me. 
Your  instinct  should  tell  you  that,  Pretorius. 

PRETORITJS. 

Do  you  think  there  is  anything  at  all  befitting  about  this 
episode  ?  Pardon  my  outspokenness,  but  this  sudden  ar- 
rest is  too  theatrical  not  to  cause  offense  to  temperate  pol- 
iticians. My  long  experience  as  a  parliamentarian  has 
taught  me  to  value  regular  procedure,  and  I  confess  that 
my  sense  for  the  correct  .  .  . 


106  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Save  your  remonstrances  until  later — I  hear  them  com- 
ing. (Short  silence.  LEVINSKI  appears,  his  clothes  in 
disorder.) 

LEVINSKI. 

How  dare  you  let  your  soldiers  lay  hands  on  us?  Do 
not  you,  a  jurist,  know  that  what  you  are  doing  is  criminal? 
It  is  illegal;  it  is  false  imprisonment ! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  may  be  imprisonment  but  it  is  not  illegal,  for  a  state 
of  siege  had  been  proclaimed  just  before  it  was  done. 

LEVINSKI. 

State  of  siege !  This  is  getting  better  and  better !  But 
at  any  rate,  you  have  not  the  slightest  pretext  for  putting 
us  under  lock  and  key ! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  have  the  extremely  valid  reason  that  you  and  your 
colleagues  are  exerting  a  form  of  activity  that  is  ruining 
the  country.  It  is  my  duty  to  put  an  end  to  this  disorder. 

LEVINSKI. 

We  do  not  acknowledge  such  subterfuge.  We  demand 
to  be  released,  and  that  instantly !  Otherwise  we  will  not 
answer  for  the  consequences. 


ACTII  ROBERT    FRANK  107 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
What  consequences  do  you  mean? 

LEVINSKI. 

The  proletariat  will  rise  in  righteous  anger.  Do  not  try 
to  provoke  it.  Beware,  I  say !  Up  to  this  time  the 
struggle  has  been  carried  on  with  moderation.  But  if  you 
persist  in  this  tyranny  you  will  get  war  to  the  knife. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  am  prepared  for  that.  But  just  let  it  come — I  do  not 
fear  the  outcome. 

LEVINSKI  (gazes  silently  at  ROBERT  FRANK  for  a  moment). 
Now  I  understand  what  you  are  driving  at.  Now  I  see 
through  your  infernal  plan.  .  .  .  Why  this  cowardly  ar- 
rest from  ambuscade?  Because  you  want  to  rouse  the 
workmen;  because  you  want  to  instigate  them  to  do  their 
worst.  You  can  accomplish  nothing  against  peaceful 
strikers;  but  if  you  can  succeed  in  bringing  on  war,  you 
hope  that  the  movement  may  be  crushed  by  force  of  arms. 
.  .  .  But  it  may  be  that  you  have  miscalculated.  We 
syndicalists  have  arms,  too — stores  and  stores  of  them — 
not  cannons  and  guns  but  much  more  effective  instruments 
of  destruction.  It  is  meant  that  they  shall  not  be  em- 
ployed until  the  hour  of  necessity  arrives,  but  then  they 
will  be  used  with  a  vengeance,  you  may  be  sure — then  all 
the  powers  of  annihilation  will  be  set  loose. 


108  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  11 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

This  information  is  interesting.  It  appears  that  the 
Council  of  Ten  is  not  so  innocent  as  it  has  hitherto  pre- 
tended to  be.  ...  Well,  perhaps  you  may  be  cross-ex- 
amined on  the  subject  before  the  court  martial. 

LEVINSKI  (with  uplifted  arm). 

And  you,  Robert  Frank,  will  be  tried  before  another 
court !  Judgment  day  will  be  held  over  you  and  the  en- 
tire bourgeoisie !  A  judgment  day  dyed  with  blood  and 
flames — the  sunset  of  capitalism,  the  dawn  of  the  prole- 
tariat !  The  great  army  of  workmen,  marching  between 
burning  palaces  and  over  the  dead  bodies  of  the  tyrants, 
will  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  justice!  (He  goes  out.  A 
short  silence.) 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  see  that  you  are  taking  notes,  Miss  Cameron.  But 
you  must  be  uncomfortable  where  you  are  sitting.  Will 
you  not  seat  yourself  here  at  the  desk  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON  (rises). 

Yes,  thank  you,  if  I  may  be  allowed.  ...  It  is  a  cable- 
gram to  my  paper  and  it  is  getting  to  be  rather  elabo- 
rate. .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  shall  see  that  it  is  sent  as  a  government  telegram,  so 
that  it  will  get  off  as  soon  as  possible. 


ACT  ii  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  109 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

You  are  too  kind.  .  .  .  (She  goes  over  and  sits  down  at 
the  desk.) 

ROBERT  FRANK  (to  WINKELMANN). 
What  are  you  standing  there  waiting  for?     Why  don't 
you  go  into  your  own  room  ? 

WlNKELMANN. 

I  dare  not  stay  in  there  alone  so  long  as  those  awful 
creatures  are  in  the  library  next  to  it.  ...  Excuse  my 
sitting  down,  but  I  have  had  such  a  shock  that  I  am 
trembling  in  all  my  limbs.  .  .  .  (He  sinks  into  a  chair.) 

PRETORIUS. 

I  certainly  don't  wonder  at  it.  It  made  the  hair  rise  on 
one's  head  to  hear  him  utter  his  threats  of  murder  and 
fire.  .  .  .  Do  you  think  there  is  anything  in  what  he  says  ? 
That  they  have  made  these  unpleasant  preparations  ?  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

In  such  case  perhaps  it  will  be  worse  for  them  than  for 
us. 

PRETORIUS. 

Yes,  you  spoke  of  bringing  them  before  a  court  martial. 
And  what  then  ?  I  mean  in  case  they  are  found  guilty  ?  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Well,  you  can  easily  imagine  what  the  judgment  would 
be. 


110  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

PRETORIUS. 

But  the  others  will  retaliate,  they  will  take  a  horrible  re- 
venge !  Now,  do  listen  to  reason — you  must  not  lead  us 
into  all  these  terrors.  .  .  .  You  are  overworked,  Frank; 
I  cannot  explain  it  otherwise.  It  is  your  nerves  that  are 
failing — I  have  seen  it  before  now.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  you  have  seen  me  nervous  before  but  only  after 
Parliament  meetings,  remember.  I  could  easily  jump  en- 
tirely out  of  my  skin  after  I  have  listened  to  the  talking- 
machines  thrash  over  old  straw  for  four  or  five  hours  on 
end.  .  .  .  But  to-day  I  don't  feel  the  least  trace  of  ner- 
vousness. 

PRETORIUS. 

Nevertheless,  I  cannot  think  but  that  what  you  are  un- 
dertaking is  a  leap  in  the  dark. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

What  else  can  I  do?  Wasn't  it  you  yourself  who  re- 
cently brought  me  the  message  that  the  present  state  of 
affairs  is  untenable?  Eight  days  more  of  this  and  we  face 
the  crash — I  am  only  quoting  your  own  words. 

PRETORIUS. 
Yes,  but  I  want  you  to  untie  the  knot,  not  cut  it  in  two. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
It  must  be  cut  in  two;  there  is  no  other  way. 


ACTII  ROBERT    FRANK  111 

PBETORIUS. 

Yes,  but  could  you  not  cut  it  in  two  in  a  little  more  de- 
cent way  ?  You  are  challenging  the  criticism  of  all  right- 
thinking  people.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Don't  you  think  I  know  that?  Don't  you  think  I 
know  them,  these  faint-hearted  souls,  these  dyed-in-the- 
bone  humbugs  ?  They  have  doubtless  no  objection  to 
reaping  the  benefits  of  my  acts,  but  they  will  nevertheless 
shake  their  heads  disapprovingly — for  they  will  not  have 
lost  anything  by  it:  they  will  have  both  the  fat  profit  and 
their  good  consciences  in  safe  keeping.  .  .  .  No,  I  have 
no  illusions.  Even  though  I  should  come  out  victorious, 
there  will  be  a  blot  on  my  name  in  the  eyes  of  all  these 
good  people.  But  I  don't  take  that  into  consideration — I 
throw  my  reputation  to  the  wind. 

PRETORITTS. 

Such  indifference  to  public  opinion  is  unwise,  to  speak 
mildly. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Viewed  from  the  usual  point  of  view,  it  is  unwise.  But 
there  is  a  sort  of  wisdom  to  be  found,  Pretorius,  which 
rises  above  the  commonplace.  What  it  seeks  is  not  the 
little  external  prosperity  which  you  acquire  by  making  a 
covenant  with  society  and  circumstances. 


112  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

PRETORIUS. 

What  does  it  seek,  then — this  marvellous  kind  of  wis- 
dom? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  seeks  the  blessed  peace  of  mind  that  one  feels  when 
one  speaks  and  acts  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  voice  of 
one's  inner  self.  This  higher  instinct  of  self-preservation 
is  the  true  wisdom — even  though  it  may  seem  to  outsiders 
to  lead  to  ignominy  and  destruction. 

PRETORIUS. 

I  have  very  little  faith  in  that  sort  of  wisdom.  I  prefer 
the  more  current  sort. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Have  you,  then,  never  even  once  heard  this  imperious 
call — a  voice  that  is  within  you  and  yet  at  the  same  time 
over  you  ?  .  .  . 

PRETORIUS. 

Both  in  me  and  over  me?  No,  thank  God,  I  never 
have.  .  .  .  And  you  say  you  are  not  nervous.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  should  have  known  it  beforehand — you  cannot  under- 
stand me. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

(Who  has  been  listening  to  the  conversation  for  a  while, 
springs  from  her  chair  and  hastens  toward  ROBERT  FRANK.) 


ACTII  ROBERT    FRANK  113 

But  7  understand  you !  For  the  first  time  I  understand 
you  fully !  That  I  could  have  doubted  for  a  moment — 
oh,  how  sorry  I  am !  .  .  .  Now  I  know  that  what  you 
want  to  do  is  the  only  right  thing,  and  even  though  the 
whole  world  should  be  against  you,  I  know  you  are  right, 
a  thousand  times  right !  .  .  .  Of  course,  I  ought  not  to 
interfere  in  this.  But  I  cannot  keep  silent — I  must  say 
it  to  you !  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
And  I  thank  you  for  saying  it. 

PRETORITTS. 

Miss  Cameron,  I  am  thunderstruck.  It  is  hardly  half 
an  hour  since  you  were  eagerly  defending  the  cause  of  the 
workmen  and  now  you  are  taking  Frank's  part  with  still 
greater  eagerness.  With  the  best  will  in  the  world  I  can- 
not reconcile  these  things. 

JTTLIA  CAMERON. 

And  who  demands  that  you  should  be  able  to  reconcile 
them  ?  7  can  do  so,  so  perfectly. 

PRETORKTS. 

Well,  of  course,  feminine  logic  is  not  accountable.  But 
feminine  goodness,  Miss  Cameron — ought  not  thai  to  for- 
bid your  encouraging  Frank  in  this  ill-omened  enterprise? 
Just  consider  who  it  is  that  will  suffer — not  only  the  guilty 
ones,  but  the  wives  and  children,  too.  .  .  . 


114  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

You  appeal  to  my  goodness — are  you  so  sure  that  I  am 
good? 

PRETORIUS. 

You  recently  proclaimed  your  sympathy  for  the  weak. 
As  indeed  is  befitting  a  woman. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Sympathy  for  the  weak — does  that  exclude  admiration 
for  the  strong  ?  No,  the  one  feeling  is  just  as  womanly  as 
the  other.  .  .  .  You  always  speak  of  "woman,"  Mr. 
Pretorius,  as  if  you  knew  us  in  and  out,  but  I  believe  the 
feminine  soul  is  quite  foreign  to  you. 

PRETORIUS. 

Indeed.  And  may  I  ask  from  what  you  draw  that 
conclusion  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

I  cannot  imagine  that  any  woman  has  ever  made  a  con- 
fidant of  you. 

PRETORIUS. 

Well,  I  think  it  is  about  time  I  left.  The  atmosphere 
in  here  is  loaded  with  an  electricity  that  I  prefer  to  avoid. 
.  .  .  Good-by,  Frank — I  trust  you  will  not  come  to  rue 


ACT  ii  ROBERT    FRANK  115 

the  day  you  undertook  this.  .  .  .     My  respects,  Miss 
Cameron.  .  .  .     (He  goes.) 

ROBERT  FRANK  (to  WINKELMANN). 
I  presume  that  you  have  recovered  from  your  fright. 
Isn't  it  about  time  that  you  went  back  to  your  own  room  ? 
(WINKELMANN  rises  reluctantly  and  goes  out.) 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Yes,  I  shall  go,  too. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Already  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

We  have  kept  you  too  long.  .  .  .  But  my  cable- 
gram .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  lies  there,  does  it  not? — I  shall  send  it  immediately. 
.  .  .  But  there  is  something  I  must  say  to  you  before 
we  separate.  This  that  has  just  taken  place — appear- 
ances were  against  me  then,  but  you  saw  deeper  and  took 
my  side.  I  wonder  if  you  have  any  idea  of  how  much  that 
means  to  me  now  at  such  a  moment  ?  More  than  I  shall 
be  able  to  repay. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

But  what  must  you  think  of  me,  that  I  without  the  least 
ceremony  .  .  . 


116  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

What  I  thought  of  you  ?  The  same  that  I  thought  the 
first  time  we  met.  Do  you  remember  the  afternoon  in 
Parliament  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Do  I  remember ! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  did  not  even  know  your  name,  and  yet  I  had  a  feeling 
that  you  had  always  been  close  to  me. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

7  had  the  same  feeling.  And  I  pictured  to  myself  how 
we  should  meet  each  other  and  how  a  day  should  come 
when  I  should  be  allowed  to  be  your  friend.  But  then 
when  I  was  introduced  to  you  at  the  ball  all  my  self-con- 
fidence vanished.  Oh,  how  frightened  I  was  and  how  my 
heart  beat! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

But  if  you  desired  that  we  should  become  friends,  why 
was  it,  then,  that  I  have  not  had  sign  of  life  from  you  be- 
fore to-day  ?  Was  it  our  conversation  that  evening  that 
made  you  shy  ?  Did  I  let  fall  any  remarks  by  which  I 
unknowingly  wounded  you? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Oh,  no,  it  was  not  anything  like  that  that  prevented  my 
coming. 


ACTII  ROBERT    FRANK  117 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
What  was  it,  then,  that  prevented  you  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
I  cannot  tell  you  that. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Well — but  when  you  finally  did  come  here  I  had  the 
impression,  nevertheless,  that  you  had  glided  away  from 
me — I  mean  that  you  had  taken  sides  with  the  others.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Because  I  defended  the  workmen  ?  I  do  that  still.  The 
workmen  are  right  in  their  way.  But  you  are  right  in  a 
higher  sense.  It  became  clear  to  me  while  you  were  talk- 
ing to  Mr.  Pretorius  about  the  inner  voice.  And  I  under- 
stood then,  too,  what  it  was  that  voice  demanded — I  un- 
derstood that  it  reminded  you  of  that  of  which  you  had 
once  dreamed.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
That  of  which  I  had  once  dreamed  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Don't  you  remember  telling  me  that?  The  elite  was 
to  form  a  covenant  for  the  elevation  of  mankind. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  and  I  also  explained  to  you  why  the  61ite  can  not 
form  a  covenant. 


118  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

No — but  since  there  can  be  no  covenant,  then  an  indi- 
vidual must  take  up  the  task.  And  you  have  had  the  cour- 
age to  shoulder  the  burden.  .  .  .  Let  the  world  believe 
that  you  are  only  a  cold  and  practical  statesman,  but  I 
know  better,  I  know  that  you  are  an  idealist.  .  .  .  And 
I  admire  you  for  it,  I  admire  you  boundlessly ! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  am  afraid  that  your  admiration  would  cool  if  you  could 
cast  a  glance  into  certain  secret  corners  of  my  soul.  But 
indeed  there  is  some  truth  in  what  you  say.  Perhaps  I 
am  an  idealist  in  a  way. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes,  who  if  not  you  ?  Have  you  not  risked  everything 
in  order  to  carry  out  an  idea?  You  have  had  a  vision 
that  has  given  you  no  rest,  you  have  in  spirit  imagined 
a  social  state  where  human  beings  can  work  under  more 
livable  conditions,  and  now  you  will  force  a  way  for  it  by 
every  possible  means  without  consideration  of  others, 
without  consideration  of  yourself.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
How  strange  that  you  should  say  this  to  me  now! 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Is  it  strange  ? 


ACT  ii  ROBERT    FRANK  119 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  is  always  strange  when  the  chimeras  created  by  our 
longings  become  transformed  into  reality.  For  I  wanted 
you  to  say  to  me  just  the  things  you  have  said — I  yearned 
for  it  even  before  we  had  exchanged  words.  For  I  recog- 
nized you — it  was  one  of  those  glimpses  from  another  ex- 
istence that  sometimes  without  warning  make  their  way 
into  the  dark  chamber  of  every-day  life.  .  .  .  Do  you 
remember  my  telling  you  this  the  other  evening  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

There  is  nothing  you  have  said  to  me  that  I  do  not 
remember. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

And  isn't  it  strange? — involuntarily  I  connected  your 
apparition  with  a  name  that  was,  as  it  were,  a  presage  of 
what  you  were  to  become  to  me.  ...  I  heard  afterward 
that  they  called  you  Julia.  But  the  name  that  instinct 
whispered  to  me  was  another,  and  now  I  understand  that 
it  was  the  true  one.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
And  what  is  my  true  name  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

For  me  your  name  is  Stella.  .  .  .  Stella,  a  star,  the 
star  of  my  future.  .  .  .  You  appeared  at  the  moment 
when  a  struggle  that  is  to  be  decisive  for  my  fate  was  in 


120  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

full  sway — call  it  superstition,  if  you  will,  but  I  detect 
in  it  a  mysterious  connection.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

A  star  is  a  guide;  a  star  is  something  to  be  looked  up  to 
— no,  the  name  does  not  suit  me.  .  .  .  But  I  shall  adopt 
it,  anyhow.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Do  I  understand  you  aright  ?    You  will  use  this  name  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Yes,  I  will  use  it  from  this  moment. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Then  it  is  pleasing  to  you  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Well,  I  said  that  I  do  not  think  it  suits  me.  But  I  have 
a  special  reason  for  adopting  it. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
And  that  reason  is  ?  ... 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
I  would  rather  you  should  guess  it. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

But  suppose  I  guessed  wrong  ?  I  should  not  like  to  risk 
that.  , 


ACT  ii  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  121 

WINKELMANN  (comes  in). 
The  oflScer  on  duty  is  outside. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Ask  him  to  wait  a  moment. 

WlNKELMANN. 

He  says  that  he  has  an  important  report  to  make.     I 
think  it  is  about  the  syndicalists. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Tell  him  to  wait,  do  you  hear?     (WINKELMANN  disap- 
pears.) 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

No,  it  will  not  do  now  for  me  to  stay  any  longer.     Good- 
by! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Just  one  word  more.     I  must  know  why  you  are  going  to 
call  yourself  Stella. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
I  cannot  tell  you.     It  is  absolutely  impossible. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  will  not  tell  me  now.     But  the  next  time  we  meet  ? 
Will  you  promise  me?    For  we  shall  meet  again.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Yes,  I  wonder.     I  do  not  know  whether  .  .  . 


122  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  n 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  do  not  know?    Are  we  not  to  meet  any  more? 
Why,  of  course  we  are ! 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Yes,  perhaps.  .  .  .    But  I  must  go  now.     Good-by ! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
No,  not  good-by,  but  au  revoir ! 


THIRD    ACT 

The  study  in  the  PRIME  MINISTER'S  official  residence. 
Along  the  walls,  which  are  covered  with  embossed  leather, 
there  are  bookcases  six  feet  high.  In  the  background,  a 
swinging  door.  At  the  left,  a  window  and  before  it  an  enor- 
mous oak  writing-desk.  Forward  on  the  same  side,  a  cup- 
board. At  the  right,  a  sofa  with  table  and  chair  in  front  of 
it. 

WINKELMANN  sits  at  the  writing-desk  occupied  with  a 
number  of  documents,  which  he  arranges  in  packages. 

Bux  puts  his  head  in  through  the  door. 

WINKELMANN  (springs  up). 

Who  is  that  ?  What  do  you  want  here  ?  .  .  .  Oh,  is  it 
only  you  ? 

BLIX  (comes  nearer). 
I  gave  you  a  good  fright,  didn't  I,  Winkelmann  ? 

WINKELMANN  (sits  down  again). 
Yes,  I  go  all  to  pieces  at  the  least  opportunity. 

BLIX 

(Draws  a  chair  up  to  the  writing-desk  and  seats  himself.) 

It  isn't  to  be  expected  that  you  should  not  be  nervous. 

123 


124  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  ACT  in 

Almost  everybody  is,  after  all  the  terrors  that  have  hap- 
pened since  we  last  met.  And  you  especially  in  the  course 
of  your  official  duties  must  have  seen  strange  things  and 
at  close  range.  .  .  . 

WlNKELMANN. 

I  have  not  really  seen  much  of  it.  For  the  truth  is  that 
I  stayed  in  the  cellar  during  most  of  the  time. 

BLIX. 

In  the  cellar?  That  is  the  last  place  I  should  have 
chosen.  For  suppose  the  house  had  been  blown  up,  you 
would  have  been  there  under  the  ruins.  Buried  alive — 
Ugh,  disgusting! 

WlNKELMANN. 

I  thought  of  that,  too;  but  what  could  I  do?  I  simply 
could  not  endure  to  hear  all  the  awful  things  that  were 
going  on.  The  mutterings  and  thunderings  as  if  an  earth- 
quake were  taking  place,  and  at  night  the  glow  from  the 
burning  buildings.  .  .  . 

BLIX. 

Yes,  and  the  screams  of  the  wounded  down  in  the 
street  and  the  sight  of  the  bodies  that  were  carried  off  on 
stretchers — I  shall  never  forget  the  three  days  it  was 
going  on.  But  now  that  it  is  over,  I  would  not  have 
missed  the  interesting  experience. 


ACT  m  ROBERT    FRANK  125 

WlNKELMANN. 

Do  you  call  it  interesting?  But  did  not  your  paper 
suffer  from  it,  too? 

BLIX. 

Yes,  our  paper  got  a  bad  name  because  it  was  thought 
to  be  the  haunt  of  the  scabs,  and  so  we  got  our  little  bomb 
as  well  as  the  others.  Our  offices  were  pretty  badly  dam- 
aged; my  private  room,  too,  where  I  was  sitting  at  exactly 
the  moment. 

WlNKELMANN. 

But  you  were  not  injured,  though. 

BLIX. 

Escaped  as  by  a  miracle.  Fortunately,  the  explosion 
killed  nobody  but  an  old  lady  who  had  come  up  to  talk 
to  me.  .  .  .  After  an  experience  like  that,  one  begins  to 
believe  again  in  a  special  providence. 

WlNKELMANN. 

Well,  I  think  the  special  providence  ought  to  have 
spared  us  all  these  horrors.  Why,  it  was  just  like  a  night- 
mare— I  can  hardly  realize  it  yet. 

BLIX. 

No,  there  certainly  was  a  tinge  of  unreality  about  the 
whole  of  that  witches'  Sabbath.  It  seems  incredible  that 


126  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  ACT  in 

our  old  town  should  have  been  devastated  by  a  raging 
horde — that  wholesale  destruction  of  churches,  theatres, 
museums,  and  warehouses —  I  felt  as  if  we  had  been 
transferred  hundreds  of  years  back. 

WlNKELMANN. 

Yes,  it  reminded  me  of  the  Goths  and  the  Vandals  in 
ancient  Rome. 

BLEC. 

These  were  much  worse  than  the  Goths  and  Vandals: 
they  were  pure  beasts  of  the  jungle.  It  was  worst  in  the 
outskirts — I  could  tell  you  things  that  would  make  your 
blood  run  cold.  .  .  . 

WlNKELMANN. 

Did  you  venture  into  the  outskirts  ? 

BLIX. 

No,  indeed,  I  did  not — that  was  much  too  dangerous, 
but  I  sent  a  reporter  out,  a  clever  young  fellow — you  should 
hear  him  tell  of  the  murders  the  rabble  committed.  Piles 
of  bodies  lay  about,  and  the  way  they  were  maltreated ! 
For  the  beasts  were  not  satisfied  with  killing  their  victims, 
they  tortured  and  mutilated  them — the  women  were  the 
worst.  .  .  . 

WlNKELMANN. 

Ugh !    The  women.  .  .  . 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  127 

BLIX. 

When  he  got  out  there  they  were  still  at  it.  The  rabble 
was  supplied  with  hand-grenades  and  they  threw  them 
wildly  at  the  troops,  letting  them  fall  where  they  would. 
Just  fancy  their  having  hand-grenades,  too  ! 

WlNKELMANN. 

Yes,  the  syndicalists  had  a  whole  arsenal  of  murderous 
instruments.  Levinski  boasted  of  that  even  before  the 
fighting  began. 

BLIX. 

But  they  got  their  punishment  afterward,  too.  My  re- 
porter happened  to  see  a  platoon  standing  facing  a  dozen 
prisoners  lined  up  against  a  house  wall,  when  suddenly  the 
word  of  command  was  given,  the  soldiers  fired,  and  the 
entire  dozen  were  attended  to  in  a  twinkling.  And  this 
scene  was  repeated  time  and  again.  ...  I  would  like  to 
know  how  many  human  lives  on  both  sides  this  affair  has 
cost — it  must  go  up  in  the  thousands.  .  .  . 

WlNKELMANN. 

Levinski  prophesied  true  when  he  said  there  would  be 
war  to  the  knife.  He  threatened  this  the  day  he  was 
arrested. 

BLIX. 

Levinski,  yes.  .  .  .  And  yet  he,  the  leader,  was  the  one 
to  be  spared  while  judgment  was  executed  on  all  his  col- 


128  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

leagues.  .  .  .  What  is  the  real  meaning  of  his  having 
been  pardoned  ? — I  would  like  to  know  very  much.  Per- 
haps Frank  has  confided  it  to  you  ? 

WlNKELMANN. 

No,  Frank  has  not  confided  anything  to  me —  You  will 
have  to  ask  him  yourself.  However,  you  can  not  talk  to 
him  now.  He  has  gone  some  place  in  the  country  and  is 
not  coming  back  before  evening. 

BLIX. 

I  know  that  and  it  is  just  why  I  am  here  now.  It  is 
you  whom  I  wish  to  talk  with.  I  would  rather  not  meet 
Frank  these  days  when  I  am  obliged  to  abuse  him.  .  .  . 
I  suppose  it  is  as  well  to  keep  away  from  him  just  now, 
anyhow,  isn't  it  ? 

WlNKELMANN. 

He  is  just  as  usual.     I  see  no  change  in  him. 

BLIX. 

That  is  very  strange.  I  should  think  he  would  be  quite 
beside  himself  at  this  sudden  change  of  front.  To  fall 
to  such  dizzy  depths  as  he  has  done — just  after  having 
reached  the  summit  of  his  career ! 

WlNKELMANN. 

Yes,  you  may  well  say  so. 


ACT  in  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  129 

BLIX. 

It  seems  like  a  dream  to  me  that  less  than  a  week  ago 
the  whole  bunch  of  us  were  prostrating  ourselves  before 
him.  There  was  nothing  too  great  for  us  to  call  him — 
"the  represser  of  syndicalism,"  "the  reconstructor  of  tran- 
quil labor,"  "the  saviour  of  society."  He  was  actually 
dictator. 

WlNKELMANN. 

A  dictator  like  Sulla.  .  .  . 

BLIX. 

And  now  he  has  fallen  and  accusations  are  pouring  in 
on  him  and  all  parties  and  all  papers  are  hunting  him 
down — yes,  my  paper,  too,  although  I  don't  take  part  in  it 
with  any  pleasure.  But  when  all  is  said  and  done,  it  is 
his  own  fault. 

WlNKELMANN. 

Yes,  it  is  hybris  that  has  brought  him  this  misfortune. 

BLIX. 

Who  is  it  that  brought  him  this  misfortune?  Is  there 
a  woman  in  the  case  ? 

WlNKELMANN. 

No,  I  said  "hybris" — that  is  a  Greek  word  that  means 
arrogance. 


130  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

BLIX. 

Oh,  yes,  I  remember  it  from  my  school-days.  One  can 
see  that  you  are  an  old  philologist.  Yes,  indeed,  it  cer- 
tainly was  arrogance  that  made  him  convene  Parliament 
again  and  try  to  force  it  to  pass  his  cursed  profit-sharing 
bill.  We  thought  that  he  had  surely  done  with  that 
hobby-horse  by  now.  .  .  .  To  want  to  make  the  workmen 
part-owners  in  industry  after  what  had  happened  was  too 
bold  a  challenge  to  the  government  parties. 

WlNKELMANN. 

And  yet  it  looked  for  a  moment  as  if  he  were  going  to 
have  his  way. 

BLIX. 

Yes,  the  majority  was  just  on  the  point  of  giving  in. 
They  gnashed  their  teeth  with  rage,  but  they  had  not  got 
over  their  fright  and  they  thought  they  could  not  get  on 
without  Frank.  He  had  every  chance  of  winning,  but 
then  he  ran  against  that  little  bump  that  turned  over  his 
wagon.  .  .  .  Were  you  in  Parliament  the  day  the  end 
came? 

WlNKELMANN. 

No,  I  never  go  there. 

BLIX. 

It  is  too  bad  that  you  did  not  get  to  see  the  farce.  .  .  . 
When  Frank  had  finished  his  great  speech  Ulveling  de- 
manded to  be  heard — I  would  not  have  missed  his  bitter- 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  131 

sweet  face  for  any  price.  You  see  it  was  intended  that  he 
should  propose  a  vote  of  confidence  on  behalf  of  the  ma- 
jority. He  has  denied  it  since,  but  I  know  positively 
that  it  is  so.  ...  Fortunately  for  him,  he  had  barely 
risen  when  the  interruption  came.  .  .  . 

WlNKELMANN. 

It  was  quite  a  young  fellow  that  interfered,  was  it  not  ? 

BLIX. 

Yes,  the  youngest  of  the  assembly — Benjamin,  as  they 
call  him.  .  .  .  You  should  have  seen  the  effect  it  had 
when  he  sprang  up  and  shouted:  "Tell  him  we  will  have 
nothing  to  do  with  his  law  !  No  compromise  with  the  in- 
cendiary rabble!"  That  loosened  the  pent-up  feeling. 
"Down  with  the  incendiary  law!  Down  with  the  dicta- 
tor ! "  resounded  from  every  corner  of  the  room.  For  the 
next  quarter  of  an  hour  the  hall  was  like  a  turbulent  sea. 
But  in  the  meantime  Ulveling  sat  there  writing.  He 
transformed  his  proposal  from  rose-pink  confidence  to 
pitch-black  lack  of  confidence,  and  that  was  the  trick  that 
made  him  Prime  Minister. 

WlNKELMANN. 

Has  he  been  appointed  yet? 

BLIX. 

Didn't  you  know  it?  Yes,  he  has  been  appointed  at 
last — it  happened  at  noon.  It  was  no  easy  job  to  form 


132  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  ACT  m 

the  new  government,  for  all  of  the  group  leaders  wanted  a 
share  of  the  spoils  and  the  result  is  a  hodgepodge  enough 
to  give  one  a  stomachache  to  think  of.  But  it  makes  no 
difference — life  has  now  dropped  back  into  the  old  folds. 

WlNKELMANN. 

For  others,  perhaps,  but  unfortunately  not  for  me. 

BLIX. 

No,  of  course,  Frank  no  longer  needs  a  secretary.  And, 
besides,  even  if  he  did,  he  could  not  afford  it.  He  has  no 
money  as  far  as  I  know. 

WlNKELMANN. 

Not  a  shilling. 

BLIX. 

And  his  future  income  will  not  be  much  to  boast  of, 
either.  So  he  can  do  nothing  more  for  you.  .  .  . 

WlNKELMANN. 

To  be  sure,  he  has  promised  to  take  care  of  me  for  the 
present.  But  his  own  future  is  so  uncertain.  .  .  . 

BLEX. 

Yes,  it  is.  Perhaps  he  will  be  prosecuted  and  sen- 
tenced or  must  leave  the  country.  .  .  .  You  ought  not 
to  depend  on  support  from  Frank. 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  133 

WlNKELMANN. 

No,  I  suppose  it  will  come  to  my  being  left  entirely  with- 
out resources. 

BLIX. 

Don't  lose  courage — there  will  be  some  way  out.  .  .  . 
You  were  a  teacher  in  your  day,  were  you  not  ?  .  .  . 

WlNKELMANN. 

Yes,  I  had  even  got  so  far  as  to  be  head  master. 

BLIX. 
Would  you  not  like  to  be  that  again  ? 

WlNKELMANN. 

I  would  like  it  well  enough — but  it  cannot  be. 

BLIX. 

You  mean  because  you  resigned  under  somewhat  tire- 
some circumstances?  Oh,  that  is  nothing.  We  can 
cast  a  veil  over  that  old  story.  And  if  it  does  not  do  to 
give  you  a  position  as  teacher,  then  you  will  get  something 
else  instead.  For  there  is  a  powerful  man  who  is  highly 
interested  in  your  welfare.  .  .  . 

WlNKELMANN. 

Is  that  true  ?    Who  on  earth  could  that  be  ? 

BLIX. 

No  other  than  the  present  Prime  Minister. 


134  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

WlNKELMANN. 

Ulveling !     But  he  does  not  even  know  me.  .  .  . 

BLIX. 

That  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter.  He  was  talk- 
ing about  you  a  little  while  ago  in  my  presence  and  I  can 
assure  you  that  he  is  not  indifferent  to  you.  However, 
you  will  soon  hear  it  from  his  own  lips.  He  is  already 
here  in  the  house. 

WlNKELMANN. 

Is  he  here  in  the  house? 

BLIX. 

Yes,  it  is  quite  natural  that  he  is  impatient  to  see  his 
official  residence.  When  one  has  gone  about  for  twenty 
years  aspiring  to  move  in !  ...  And  now  he  is  going  the 
rounds  accompanied  by  Pretorius. 

WlNKELMANN. 

So  Pretorius  is  with  him !  .  .  . 

BLIX. 

He  and  Pretorius  are  inseparable  now. 

WlNKELMANN. 

Just  fancy  that  Ulveling  will  take  an  interest  in  me. 
Great  Heavens,  why  did  you  not  tell  me  so  before  ? 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  135 

BLIX. 

Instead  of  detaining  you  with  a  lot  of  talk — say  it  right 
out;  I  shall  not  be  insulted.  ...  To  tell  the  truth,  I  have 
sat  here  all  this  while  and  made  conversation  about  any- 
thing and  everything  in  order  to  draw  the  time  out. 

WlNKELMANN. 

But  why  did  you  want  to  draw  the  time  out  ? 

BLIX. 

In  order  to  be  present  when  you  and  Ulveling  meet.  I 
am  curious  to  see  what  will  be  the  outcome  of  this  en- 
counter— I  have  my  own  personal  reasons.  .  .  . 

WlNKELMANN. 

I  don't  understand  a  blessed  thing  of  all  this. 

BLIX. 

No,  naturally  not,  but  listen  and  I  will  explain  it  to 
you.  ...  As  you  know,  Parliament  has  appointed  a  com- 
mission the  object  of  which  is  to  make  Frank  harmless 
forever.  It  is  to  trace  down  all  the  deeds  of  darkness 
which  they  say,  either  rightfully  or  wrongfully,  he  com- 
mitted while  he  was  Prime  Minister. 

WlNKELMANN. 

Yes,  so  I  have  heard;  but  what  has  that  affair  got  to  do 
with  either  you  or  me  ? 


136  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

Buz. 

A  tremendous  lot.  In  fact,  it  concerns  both  us  and 
Ulveling  and  still  others.  .  .  .  But  here  he  is  already.  .  .  . 
(ULVELING  and  PBETORIUS  come  in.  Bux  and  WINKEL- 
MANN rise.) 

BLEX. 

May  I  be  allowed  to  present  .  .  . 

ULVELING. 

It  is  not  necessary — I  know  who  this  gentleman  is.  ... 
(To  WINKELMANN.)  I  can  rely  on  what  I  have  been  told, 
can  I  not — that  Frank  is  not  expected  back  for  a  while 
yet? 

WINKELMANN. 
He  will  not  be  back  before  evening,  your  Excellency. 

ULVELING. 

Good,  so  we  can  sit  in  peace  and  comfort.  .  .  .  (He  and 
PRETORIUS  seat  themselves  at  the  desk  while  BLIX  takes  a  seat 
at  the  table  at  the  right.)  Ah,  it  is  a  blessed  thing  to  sit 
down.  I  have  been  on  my  legs  for  several  hours  now.  .  .  . 

Bux. 

It  must  be  sweet  to  rest  on  the  cushions  of  power. 

ULVELING. 

It  is  too  sweet,  I  see.  These  upholstered  chairs  are  not 
for  me.  Pretorius — I  shall  have  them  sent  away  when  I 


ACT  in  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  137 

move  in.     I  have  told  you  before  that  I  suffer  from  an  ill- 
ness that  has  been  aggravated  by  my  sedentary  life.  .  .  . 

PRETORIUS. 

A  sedentary  life  of  tireless  labor.  You  have  contracted 
this  illness  in  the  service  of  the  public  weal. 

ULVELING. 

Yes,  of  course,  that  is  a  consolation,  but  it  is  cursedly 
unpleasant  all  the  same.  (To  WINKELMANN.)  You  say 
that  Frank  is  not  coming  back  before  evening.  What  is 
it  he  has  on  hand  ?  Do  you  know  where  he  has  gone  ? 

WlNKELMANN. 

He  has  gone  to  the  country,  your  Excellency,  to  look 
for  a  house. 

ULVELING. 

Yes,  it  is  doubtless  difficult  for  him  to  find  quarters 
here  in  town. 

WlNKELMANN. 

It  has  proven  quite  impossible,  your  Excellency.  Peo- 
ple will  not  rent  to  him  because  they  are  afraid  attempts 
may  be  made  on  his  life. 

ULVELING. 
He  receives  many  threatening  letters,  does  he  not  ? 


138  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

WlNKELMANN. 

Piles  of  them,  your  Excellency.  The  scrap  basket  there 
is  quite  full  of  them. 

ULVELING. 

Oh,  take  one  out  and  let  me  see  it.  (WENKELMANN 
takes  a  letter  from  the  scrap  basket  and  hands  it  to  UL- 
VELING.) 

ULVELING  (reads). 

"The  sword  have  you  seized,  by  the  sword  shall  you 
die. "...  There  is  no  more  here.  It  is  an  unpractised 
hand,  but  it  is  the  voice  of  justice.  Yes,  the  sense  of 
justice  is  deeply  rooted  in  the  minds  of  the  common  people. 

BLIX. 

I  hope  this  sense  of  justice  is  not  going  to  utter  itself 
at  our  expense.  We  are  sitting  in  an  unsafe  place — who 
knows,  perhaps  in  a  moment  or  two  we  may  be  regaled 
with  a  bomb  intended  for  Frank. 

ULVELING  (springs  up). 
The  beasts !    Would  they  really  dare?  .  .  . 

BLIX. 

Oh,  no,  the  days  of  bomb-throwing  are  over — Frank  has 
seen  to  that.  It  was  only  a  little  joke  I  permitted  myself 
to  crack. 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  139 

ULVELING  (seating  himself  again). 
A  rather  inappropriate  joke!  (To  WINKELMANN.) 
But  tell  me,  what  impression  does  it  make  on  Frank  that 
people  avoid  him  as  if  he  had  the  plague  ?  He  knows  in 
his  heart  that  he  is  crushed  and  done  for  for  all  time,  does 
he  not?  Can  one  see  it  on  his  face,  in  his  manner  in 
general ? 

WINKELMANN. 
No,  externally  he  is  just  as  usual,  your  Excellency. 

ULVELING. 

Externally,  that  may  be.  But  you  can  stake  your  life 
on  it  that  it  pricks  and  scorches  internally. 

Bux. 
At  least,  let  us  hope  so. 

ULVELING. 
What  do  you  mean  by  that  ? 

BLIX. 

The  same  as  I  presume  your  Excellency  means — let  us 
hope  that  the  suffering  may  chasten  his  soul. 

ULVELING. 

One  never  knows  when  you  are  speaking  seriously,  Blix. 
.  .  .  What  do  you  think  about  it,  Pretorius  ?  Don't  you 
think  that  it  cuts  him  to  the  heart  day  and  night  ? 


140  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

PRETORIUS. 
I  am  perfectly  sure  that  it  does. 

Bux. 

Yes,  of  course,  you  who  have  been  intimate  with  him 
from  youth  must  know  him  best. 

PRETORIUS. 

I  have  never  been  intimate  with  Frank.  All  that  talk 
about  our  early  friendship  is  a  fable  put  in  circulation  by 
I  don't  know  whom. 

BLDC. 

No,  really  ?  There,  you  see  how  easy  it  is  to  be  misled. 
Then,  of  course,  the  report  about  the  service  Frank  is  sup- 
posed to  have  done  you  the  other  day  is  a  fabrication,  too. 

PRETORIUS. 
What  sort  of  service  is  he  supposed  to  have  done  me  ? 

BLIX. 

I  have  heard  a  little  bird  say  that  it  was  he  who  advised 
you  to  enter  upon  the  financial  deal  that  has  made  you  a 
millionaire. 

PRETORIUS. 

I  must  protest  against  the  expression  "financial  deal." 
It  is  true  that  I  bought  a  considerable  number  of  indus- 
trial shares,  but  I  did  not  do  so  in  the  hope  of  personal 
gain. 


ACT  in          ROBERT    FRANK  141 

BLIX. 

Indeed !  So  you  did  not  buy  them  in  the  hope  of  per- 
sonal gain !  But  then,  why  did  you  buy  them  ? 

PRETORITTS. 

Because  I  considered  it  my  duty  as  a  citizen  and  as  a 
patriot. 

BLIX. 

You  considered  it  your  patriotic  duty  to  become  a 
millionaire  ? 

PRETORIUS. 

I  thought  you  were  intelligent  enough  to  understand 
what  I  meant.  The  fall  in  industrial  shares  threatened  to 
bring  a  national  catastrophe  on  the  country  and  so  it  was 
necessary  to  cause  a  rise  in  the  market  and  quicken  up 
life  on  the  Exchange.  With  this  object  in  view,  I  placed 
myself  in  the  front  ranks  as  an  example  to  be  followed. 

BLIX. 

But  if  you  wanted  to  be  a  good  example,  why  did  you 
not  appear  in  the  open  market?  It  is  said  that  you 
bought  the  shares  secretly  and  that  you  got  them  for  a 
song. 

PRETORITTS. 

Oh,  you  know  how  people  talk — especially  the  envious 
ones,  those  that  did  not  succeed  in  getting  in  the  field 
early  enough. 


142  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

BLIX. 

Well,  they  do  say,  too,  Mr.  Pretorius,  that  it  was  not 
very  difficult  for  you  to  succeed  because  Frank  drew  your 
attention  to  the  opportune  moment. 

PRETORIUS. 

Frank  is  not  the  man  whose  advice  I  would  wish  to  fol- 
low. He  is  much  too  unbalanced  for  that.  I  have  known 
for  a  long  time  that  he  is  not  normal. 

ULVELING. 

Say  crazy,  Pretorius,  absolutely  out  of  his  senses. 
Here  he  goes  and  without  the  least  ceremony  opens  Levin- 
ski's  cage  so  we  have  got  that  monster  walking  about — a 
public  scarecrow.  We  must  put  an  end  to  that  scandal — 
the  fellow  must  be  locked  up  again  as  soon  as  possible. 

BLIX. 

I  do  not  think  that  Levinski  has  much  joy  of  his  liberty 
— he  is  said  to  be  broken,  soul  and  body.  His  fellow  par- 
tisans will  have  nothing  to  do  with  him — they  suspect  that 
he  bought  his  pardon  with  treachery.  For  my  part,  I  do 
not  believe  it. 

PRETORIUS. 

The  proceedings  of  the  court  martial  were  secret,  of 
course,  but  I  know  this  much — that  Levinski  did  not  prof- 
fer himself  as  state's  evidence.  If  he  had  deserted  his  ac- 


ACT  in  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  143 

complices,  his  liberation  would  be  explicable.  But  as 
things  are,  I  cannot  see  anything  in  Frank's  actions  except 
a  deplorable  proof  of  weakening  mental  powers. 

BLIX. 

Come  now,  that  is  saying  a  little  too  much — we  can  strip 
him  of  a  good  many  things,  but  in  the  name  of  truth  we 
shall  have  to  leave  him  his  mental  powers. 

ULVELING. 

That  is  right — continue  your  eulogy !  You  always  have 
been  his  sworn  adherent,  and,  in  your  innermost  heart,  you 
still  are. 

BLIX. 
I  have  attacked  him  pretty  violently  in  my  paper. 

ULVELING. 

By  no  means  violently  enough.  An  undercurrent  of 
sympathy,  a  regret  for  his  fall  are  noticeable  in  your  arti- 
cles— do  not  try  to  deny  it. 

BLIX. 

Well,  I  am  that  way — it  cannot  be  helped — I  am  in- 
clined to  be  more  or  less  swayed  by  the  impulse  of  the 
moment. 

ULVELING. 

As  far  as  I  am  concerned,  you  may  be  swayed  by  your 
impulses  as  much  as  you  like,  if  you  will  just  be  careful 


144  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

enough  to  see  that  your  impulses  are  always  on  the  right 
side. 

BLIX. 

Your  Excellency  will  have  no  cause  for  dissatisfaction. 
I  am  sure  you  will  be  pleased  with  my  article  on  the  change 
of  ministry.  I  should  like  to  be  allowed  to  read  it  to  you 
— I  have  proof-sheets  of  it  in  my  pocket.  .  .  . 

ULVELING. 

I  do  not  anticipate  anything  much.  But  let  me  hear 
what  you  have  patched  together. 

BLIX  (reads). 

"Robert  Frank  has  fallen  and  will  never  rise  again. 
The  future  contains  no  other  hope  for  him,  who  only  re- 
cently belonged  to  the  mighty  ones  of  the  earth,  than  that 
his  guilty  past  may  sink  into  merciful  oblivion." 

ULVELING. 

That  is  not  bad.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  your  voice 
faltered — is  it  by  chance  from  sympathy  ? 

BLIX. 

Oh,  no,  it  is  only  that  the  sentence  has  such  a  euphonious 
cadence.  When  I  write  anything  really  beautiful,  I  am 
always  affected  by  it — purely  artistic  emotion. 

ULVELING. 
Indeed !    Well,  go  on  with  the  text.  .  .  . 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  145 

BLIX  (reads). 

"When  it  became  clear  that  his  ill-judged  policy  was 
bringing  the  country  and  society  to  the  edge  of  the  chasm, 
the  nation  turned  from  him  and  cried  out  for  a  new  chief 
whose  leadership  would  insure  safety.  And  just  as  the 
need  was  greatest,  the  chieftain  appeared ;  he  revealed  him- 
self in  the  venerable  form  of  Jakob  Ulveling." 

ULVELING. 

No,  by  Jove !  You  are  not  going  to  be  allowed  to  call 
me  "venerable"  !  .  .  .  People  that  do  not  know  me  will 
think  that  I  am  a  tottering  octogenarian. 

BLIX. 

All  right,  I  shall  find  a  more  suitable  adjective.  .  .  . 
(He  reads.)  "Unlike  Robert  Frank,  who  suffered  no  in- 
dependent spirit  beside  him,  Mr.  Ulveling  has  sur- 
rounded himself  with  co-operators  who  are  without 
exception  eminent  men." 

ULVELING. 

Well,  I  cannot  say  that  I  would  call  them  eminent.  But 
never  mind.  .  .  .  Just  read  on.  .  .  . 

BLIX  (reads). 

"There  may  be  some  who  wonder  why  a  place  has  not 
been  made  in  the  governmental  constellation  for  the  new 
star  which  has  so  suddenly  come  to  light  in  our  political 


146  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  ACT  m 

arch  of  heaven.  It  will  be  understood  that  we  refer  to 
the  young  representative  whom  Parliament  called  its 
Benjamin,  but  who  has  now  proven  himself  to  be  a  David, 
the  slayer  of  our  Goliath." 

ULVELING. 

Well,  I  must  say!  Is  that  the  way  you  support  me! 
By  making  objections  to  the  composition  of  the  govern- 
ment! 

Buz. 

I  am  not  the  one  that  is  making  this  objection.  I  state 
it  here  only  in  order  to  confute  it  below.  The  criticism 
must  be  disarmed  in  advance. 

ULVELING. 

There  will  not  be  any  criticism  on  account  of  that  sap- 
ling's being  kept  out. 

BLIX. 

I  am  not  so  sure  of  that.  For  he  has  played  a  promi- 
nent role  in  the  whole  of  this  affair.  And  the  very  fact 
that  he  is  so  young  is  an  advantage  in  the  eyes  of  many 
people. 

ULVELING. 

But  not  in  mine.  I  cannot  endure  young  people — they 
are  noisy  and  forward.  It  was  an  impertinence  for  that 
greenhorn  to  interrupt  me  as  if  I  did  not  have  sense 
enough  myself  to  know  what  ought  to  be  said.  .  .  . 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  147 

"David,"  you  call  him — it  seems  to  me  I  was  the  one  who 
was  David.  It  was  my  motion  that  struck  Frank  down 
and  not  the  bark  from  that  ill-mannered  pup. 

PRETORITJS. 

You  certainly  cannot  deny,  Mr.  Blix,  that  this  young 
man  is  an  extremely  inexperienced  politician.  He  should 
have  been  satisfied  with  his  first  easily  bought  success. 
But  in  the  intoxication  of  his  triumph  he  wanted  to  outdo 
himself,  and  so  he  came  with  this  ill-advised  bill  for  an 
investigation  commission  against  Frank. 

BLIX. 

A  bill  which  unfortunately  was  carried  unanimously — 
and  you  also  voted  for  it,  Mr.  Pretorius. 

PRETORITJS. 

When  it  was  once  proposed,  of  course  it  was  necessary 
to  vote  for  it  if  one  did  not  wish  to  bring  suspicion  on 
one's  self.  But  it  was  no  less  inopportune  for  that. 

BIIX. 

It  was  a  two-edged  sword.  If  everything  that  was  ripe 
under  Frank's  rule  is  to  be  investigated  I  am  afraid  that 
he  will  not  be  the  one  to  be  compromised  the  most. 

ULVELING. 
Perhaps  you  are  anxious  for  your  own  skin  ? 


148  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

BLIX. 

Yes,  that,  too.  But  if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst  I 
can  console  myself  that  I  shall  be  in  choice  society.  Don't 
you  agree  with  me,  your  Excellency  ? 

ULVELJNG. 
What  is  it  you  are  taking  the  liberty  of  insinuating  ? 

PRETORIUS. 

Mr.  Blix,  I  reject  with  indignation  the  mere  suggestion 
that  people  in  prominent  positions  should  have  been  ap- 
proachable for  purposes  of  corruption. 

BLIX. 

But,  then,  why  is  everybody  so  afraid  that  Frank  will 
avenge  himself  by  making  exposures  ?  And  why  are  cer- 
tain people  so  eager  to  get  hold  of  his  papers  ?  Yes,  why 
is  it  so  absolutely  necessary  for  these  papers  to  be  got  out 
of  the  way  ? 

PRETORTOS. 

Because  they  may  possibly  show  that  Frank  has  at 
least  made  attempts  at  corruption — without  success,  I  do 
not  doubt.  But  just  the  fact  that  prominent  men  here 
have  been  subjected  to  such  insulting  attempts — even  this 
fact  will  be  felt  as  a  humiliation  to  the  whole  country. 
Our  honorable  nation  ought  to  be  spared  such  a  shame, 
and  therefore  these  papers  ought  to  disappear. 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  149 

ULVELING. 

Yes,  that  is  all  very  well — the  papers  ought  to  disap- 
pear; but  the  point  is  to  get  hold  of  them  first. 

PRETORIUS. 

Mr.  Winkelmann  will  doubtless  be  able  to  give  the 
necessary  information. 

ULVELING  (to  WINKELMANN). 

Why  are  you  standing  over  there  by  the  door  ?  Take  a 
chair  and  sit  down  by  me.  (WINKELMANN  pushes  a  chair 
hesitatingly  toward  ULVELING  and  sits  down  on  the  edge 
of  it.) 

ULVELING. 

I  have  not  had  a  chance  to  talk  to  you  properly  at  all 
yet.  .  .  .  You  are  a  relative  of  Frank's,  I  hear. 

WINKELMANN. 

I  am  really  not  related  to  him,  your  Excellency.  But  I 
was  married  to  his  sister  who  is  now  dead. 

ULVELING. 

Indeed,  is  she  dead — that  is  very  sad.  ...  So  you  are 
Frank's  brother-in-law  then — and  you  are  probably  on 
good  terms  with  him  ?  You  have  nothing  to  complain  of 
with  regard  to  him  ? 

WINKELMANN. 
No,  I  really  have  not,  your  Excellency. 


150  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

PRETORIDS. 

This  reply  redounds  much  to  your  honor,  Mr.  Winkel- 
mann.  It  is  quite  natural  that  you  shrink  from  exposing 
your  brother-in-law.  But  the  truth  is  that  he  has  shown 
a  lack  of  consideration  for  you  to  a  quite  remarkable 
extent. 

ULVELING. 
Is  that  possible ! 

PRETORIUS. 

As  an  example,  I  can  state  that  Frank  constantly  both 
called  and  described  Mr.  Winkelmann  by  a  nickname. 
He  called  him  Leporello — to  speak  mildly,  a  most  unsuit- 
able name  for  a  man  who  was  for  a  long  time  a  teacher  of 
youth. 

ULVELING. 

Leporello,  you  say  ?  He  dared  call  this  highly  deserving 
pedagogue  by  such  a  name?  No,  I  do  not  believe  it;  I 
will  not  believe  it. 

WINKELMANN. 
Yes,  it  is  really  the  case,  your  Excellency. 

ULVELING. 

It  has  been  a  long  time  since  I  have  heard  a  thing  that 
has  affected  me  as  this  does.  That  he  would  want  his 
own  brother-in-law,  his  faithful  assistant,  to  be  humbled 
and  made  ridiculous — this  is  more  than  cynical;  it  is  per- 


ACT  in  ROBERT     FRANK  151 

verse.  .  .  .     And  you  have  not  rebelled  at  this  permanent 
bad  treatment? 

WlNKELMANN. 

I  have  never  liked  his  calling  me  Leporello.  But  I  did 
not  want  to  say  anything. 

ULVELING. 

But  now  you  must  tell  him  that  you  will  not  suffer  it 
any  longer.  For,  of  course,  you  understand  that  he  is  vio- 
lating your  dignity  as  a  man.  Do  you  not  see  that  ? 

WlNKELMANN. 

Yes,  I  see  it  now,  your  Excellency. 

ULVELING. 

And  you  must  promise  me  that  you  will  speak  up  at 
the  first  opportunity.  Do  you  hear? 

WlNKELMANN. 

I  shall  do  so  if  I  can,  your  Excellency. 

ULVELING. 

You  need  no  longer  be  afraid  of  him.  You  can  tell  him 
from  me  that  I  am  going  to  give  you  redress  for  the  injury 
he  has  let  you  suffer.  You  will  get  a  position  that  is 
much  better  than  this  wretched  secretaryship.  A  posi- 
tion in  keeping  with  your  powers  and  deserts. 


152  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

WlNKELMANN. 

I  do  not  know  how  to  thank  your  Excellency.  .  .  . 

ULVELING. 

I  demand  no  thanks.  An  act  of  justice  is  its  own 
reward.  .  .  .  But  to  speak  of  something  else — what 
papers  are  these  lying  here  on  the  writing  desk  ? 

WlNKELMANN. 

They  are  all  sorts  of  preliminary  reports  and  opinions, 
your  Excellency.  Frank  gave  me  instructions  to  arrange 
them  before  they  are  to  be  sent  back  to  the  departments. 

ULVELING. 

Then,  where  are  the  confidential  documents  ?  (WiNKEL- 
MANN  looks  at  ULVELING  questioningly.) 

PRETOBITJS. 

His  Excellency  means  the  collection  of  pieces  of  writing 
that  Frank  calls  by  the  inelegant  appellation  "canaille 
archives."  He  was  in  the  habit  of  keeping  them  hi  that 
cupboard. 

WlNKELMANN. 

Yes,  they  are  still  there.  I  have  not  got  so  far  as  to 
pack  them  yet. 

PRETORIUS  (to  ULVELING). 

Well,  that  makes  our  work  comparatively  easy  for  us, 
does  it  not  ? 


ACT  m  ROBERT    FRANK  153 

ULVELING  (to  WINKELMANN). 

Look  here —  You  have  no  objections  to  opening  the 
cupboard  in  my  presence,  have  you? 

WINKELMANN. 

No,  if  your  Excellency  orders  me  to  do  so,  it  is  no  more 
than  my  duty. 

ULVELING. 

Bravo!  You  are  a  man  with  his  heart  in  the  right  place. 
(He  gives  his  hand  to  WINKELMANN.)  I  respect  you,  Mr. 
Leporello — Mr.  Winkelmann,  I  mean  to  say — excuse  my 
absent-mindedness.  .  .  .  Yes,  let  us  begin — the  sooner 
the  better.  (All  rise  and  go  toward  the  cupboard,  where 
WINKELMANN  begins  to  fumble  with  the  lock.) 

ULVELING. 

Doesn't  it  work  ?  Is  there  anything  the  matter  with  the 
mechanism  ? 

WINKELMANN. 

No,  it  is  only  because  it  is  a  combination  lock,  your 
Excellency.  I  must  put  the  letters  together  first.  .  .  . 

BLIX. 
Old-fashioned  arrangement.    It  is  probably  an  heirloom. 

ULVELING. 

I  would  give  a  good  deal  to  see  Frank's  face  when  he  dis- 
covers that  the  bird  has  flown.  .  .  .  Ah,  there  goes  the 
lock !  But  it  is  empty. 


154  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  in 

PRETORIUS. 

The  middle  compartment  is  empty.  But,  perhaps,  in 
the  drawers  .  .  . 

WINKELMANN  (putts  the  drawers  out). 
I  don't  understand.  .  .  .     Only  last  night  .  .  . 

Bux. 

Not  a  single  scrap  of  paper  there  either.  .  .  .  He  has 
stolen  a  march  on  us.  .  .  .  (Short  silence.  They  ail  look 
at  each  other.) 

ULVELING. 

This  is  the  devil  and  all !  (The  door  opens  and  ROBERT 
FRANK  comes  in.  He  remains  standing  a  moment,  his  eyes 
on  those  present.) 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

How  do  you  do,  gentlemen?  I  congratulate  you,  Ul- 
veling —  You  have  now  got  your  appointment,  have  you 
not? 

ULVELING. 

Yes,  I  have  been  appointed.  ...  I  have  been  ap- 
pointed. .  .  .  Yes,  I  have  been  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

And  so  it  was  your  first  thought  to  come  up  to  see  me 
here.  This  is  an  attention  that  I  value  in  the  proportion 
it  deserves. 


ACT  in  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  155 

ULVELING. 

Yes,  I  thought  I  ought  to  pay  a  visit  to  my  predecessor 
...  as  is  quite  correct  and  natural  ...  in  order  to  pre- 
sent myself  as  his  successor.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  do  not  know  whether  I  should  ask  you  to  sit  down. 
For,  in  a  way,  you  are  the  one  that  is  the  master  here  now. 

ULVELING. 

No,  thank  you,  I  think  I  must  go  now.  ...  I  have 
so  many  important  things  to  attend  to —  I  am  posi- 
tively loaded  with  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  can  easily  fancy  so.  But  I  do  not  pity  you.  For,  of 
course,  it  must  be  a  satisfaction  to  you  that  you  have  now 
attained  the  goal  of  your  wishes. 

ULVELING. 

I  have  never  desired  to  assume  the  burden  of  govern- 
ment. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Now  don't  be  a  hypocrite,  Ulveling. 

ULVELING. 

I  assure  you,  that  I  should  have  been  more  than  glad 
to  have  seen  some  one  else  undertake  this  responsible  task. 


156  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

PRETORITTS. 

I  can  testify  to  that,  for  I  have  seen  you  bowed  down 
with  anxiety  when  you  spoke  of  how  much  there  is  to  be 
reconstructed  in  our  sorely  tried  country.  It  requires 
self-denial  to  take  command  under  such  difficult  circum- 
stances. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Great  Heavens,  are  we  augurs  going  to  be  just  as  cere- 
monious among  ourselves  as  when  we  are  in  the  presence 
of  the  uninitiated  ?  Difficult  conditions — that  is  just  the 
sort  of  thing  politicians  support  life  on. 

PRETORIUS. 
Support  life  on ! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  exactly  as  lawyers  do  on  litigation.  If  there  were 
no  snarls  and  friction  and  distress  and  misery  what  in  the 
name  of  Heaven  would  politicians  do  ?  The  worse  things 
are,  the  better  they  thrive.  Of  course,  they  must  pretend 
that  they  are  anxious,  for  appearance's  sake,  but  they  are 
in  reality  jubilant  over  the  lucrative  adversity. 

PRETORITTS. 

Fortunately,  I  have  preserved  my  faith  in  mankind  and 
I  take  the  liberty  of  denying  that  our  politicians  are  the 
accomplished  hypocrites  you  accuse  them  of  being. 


ACT  m  ROBERT    FRANK  157 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Far  from  it — I  by  no  means  rate  them  so  highly.  Show 
me  an  accomplished  hypocrite  and  I  shall  take  off  my 
hat  to  this  rare  bird.  For  you  see  it  is  not  given  to  every 
man  to  be  able  to  carry  through  deliberately  the  r6le  of 
hypocrite.  For  that  a  completeness  is  necessary  and 
weaklings  lack  it.  They  are  hypocritical  enough,  they 
too,  but  they  will  not  confess  it  to  themselves.  .  .  .  How 
about  you,  Pretorius?  Do  you  ever  contemplate  your 
own  nakedness?  I  don't  believe  that  you  take  off  your 
Sunday  clothes  even  in  the  privacy  of  your  chamber. 

PRETORIUS. 

I  do  not  intend  to  answer  indiscreet  questions.  It 
was  not  for  that  purpose  I  came  here. 

ROBERT  FRANK  (points  to  the  open  cupboard). 
No,  it  is  very  easy  to  see  why  you  gentlemen  came. 
With  due  respect,  it  was  for  the  purpose  of  committing  a 
burglary. 

PRETORIUS. 

Committing  a  burglary !  I  must  really  request  you  to 
moderate  your  language.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

And  so  you  persuaded  this  poor  Leporello  to  be  your 
assistant. 


158  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

WlNKELMANN. 

Don't  call  me  Leporello !    I  can  not  endure  to  hear  it. 
You  are  violating  my  dignity  as  a  man ! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Have  you  lost  your  senses  ? 

WINKELMANN  (draws  back  and  tries  to  get  behind  ULVELING). 
Now  I  am  not  afraid  of  you  any  longer — not  a  speck. 
You  can  not  do  me  any  harm,  for  his  Excellency  is  protect- 
ing me.  He  has  promised  me  a  much  better  position  than 
the  one  I  had  under  you.  .  .  . 

UL.VEUNG. 

Stuff  and  nonsense !    I  have  not  promised  you  any- 
thing. 

PRETORIUS. 
You  must  have  misunderstood  his  Excellency. 

WINKELMANN  (to  BLIX). 
But  didn't  you  tell  me  .  .  .  ? 

BLIX. 

Kindly  allow  me  to  keep  out  of  this  affair. 

PRETORIUS  (to  ULVELING). 
Ought  we  not  to  put  an  end  to  this  painful  scene  ? 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  159 

ULVELING. 
Yes,  let  us  get  away  from  this  cursed  place. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Wait  a  moment.  It  is  as  well  we  understand  each  other 
without  delay.  Of  course,  I  know  why  you  wished  to 
sneak  away  with  my  private  papers  .  .  . 

ULVELING. 

I  intended  to  confiscate  them  in  the  interests  of  the 
state.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  was  rather  in  your  own  interests,  I  think.  For  you 
know  very  well  that  if  certain  transactions  come  to  light, 
you  will  go  to  pot,  my  good  Ulveling.  Both  you  and  sev- 
eral other  public  men. 

ULVELING. 
Do  you  want  to  bring  about  a  scandal  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Not  unless  I  am  obliged  to  do  so.  I  do  not  enjoy  be- 
traying things  that  have  been  arranged  in  private  by  two 
men.  But  our  virtuous  Parliament  will  have  it  thus.  It 
has  demanded  a  glimpse  of  all  my  misdeeds — very  well, 
so  be  it,  then  we  shall  see  that  the  exposure  is  complete, 
even  to  the  point  of  nakedness. 


160  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  ACT  m 

PRETORIUS. 
But,  remember — the  scandal  will  bespatter  you,  too. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Bespatter  me — is  it  not  that,  perchance,  you  would  pre- 
fer above  all  things  ? 

ULVELING. 

It  was  not  I  who  proposed  this  cursed  investigation 
commission. 

PRETORIUS. 

The  investigation  must  be  hushed  up — considerations 
of  morals  and  decency  make  it  a  duty.  We  shall  always 
be  able  to  find  ways  and  means  to  put  an  end  to  the 
activities  of  the  commission. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

If  you  gentlemen  are  willing  to  beat  a  retreat,  so  much 
the  better.  Then  I  will,  for  the  moment,  let  the  papers 
remain  in  their  safe  hiding-place. 

ULVELING. 
I  can  rely  on  everything's  being  clear  sailing  now  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  Ulveling,  you  cannot  hope  to  get  rid  of  me  so 
cheaply.  It  is  not  enough  for  me  that  you  forbear  to 
discommode  me — I  intend  to  have  both  you  and  the 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  161 

others  under  my  thumb.  You  will  not  be  permitted  to 
gambol  as  you  will,  for  I  do  not  choose  for  you  to  commit 
too  many  blunders  which  I  shall  have  to  repair  later  when 
I  assume  the  reins  of  government  again.  Remember,  I 
have  a  hold  over  you — Banquo's  ghost  may  appear  at  any 
moment.  So  I  hope  you  will  behave  yourself,  for  your 
own  sakes.  .  .  .  Well,  that  is  all  I  wish  to  impress  upon 
you.  And  now  I  shall  not  detain  you  any  longer — good- 
by,  gentlemen.  (ULVELING  turns  to  go,  also  PRETORIUS 
and  BLIX.) 

WINKELMANN    (follows  at  ULVELING's  keels). 

One  word,  your  Excellency,  only  a  word.  .  .  . 

ULVELING. 

Go  to  Jericho !  (WINKELMANN  recoils  and  remains 
standing  motionless.  ULVELING,  PRETORIUS,  and  BLIX  go 
out.) 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Well,  Leporello — are  you  turned  to  a  pillar  of  salt  ? 

WINKELMANN. 

Be  merciful !  Forgive  me !  I  did  not  know  what  I  was 
doing. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Oh,  you  knew  it  well  enough.  But  don't  let  us  take 
things  tragically,  Leporello. 


162  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

WlNKELMANN. 

No,  you  do  not  mind  all  this,  do  you?  And  you  will 
not  cast  me  from  you,  either  ?  You  will  not  take  from  me 
the  little  pension  you  promised  me  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  why  should  I?  You  have  not  shown  yourself  in 
any  other  light  to-day  than  the  one  in  which  I  have  always 
seen  you. 

WlNKELMANN. 

Thanks,  a  thousand  thanks  !  You  lift  a  stone  from  my 
heart.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Now  we  have  had  enough  of  this.  But  tell  me  what  is 
the  meaning  of  this — that  there  was  not  a  servant  to  be 
seen  in  the  entire  house  on  my  return. 

WlNKELMANN. 

The  servants  thought  you  were  not  coming  back  before 
late  to-night.  And  so  they  all  wanted  to  go  out  in  town 
to  look  for  new  places.  I  have  not  been  able  to  do  any- 
thing with  them  since  they  were  dismissed. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Well,  it  is  quite  natural  that  they  think  of  themselves. 

WlNKELMANN. 

The  only  one  that  has  stayed  at  home  is  the  porter  and 
he  has  taken  to  drink,  so  God  knows  whom  he  may  not  let 


ACT  m  ROBERT    FRANK  163 

in.     Ugh,  it  is  so  unpleasant  in  this  desolate  house.  .  .  . 
And  the  worst  of  all  is  that  the  cook  has  gone  out,  too.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

And  you  are  probably  hungry,  Leporello.  Mental  emo- 
tion sharpens  the  appetite. 

WlNKELMANN. 

Yes,  it  certainly  does.  ...  If  you  will  allow  me,  I  will 
make  a  flying  trip  to  the  pantry — I  want  to  do  so  before 
it  gets  dark.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  go  on,  Leporello.  (WINKELMANN  goes.  ROBERT 
FRANK  sits  dawn  at  the  desk  and  busies  himself  with  the 
documents.  There  is  a  knock  on  the  door.}  Come  in. 

JULIA  CAMERON  (comes  in). 

Mr.  Winkelmann  said  that  he  thought  you  would  re- 
ceive me.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK  (goes  to  meet  her). 

Is  it  you?  Is  it  really  you  ?  So  I  was  to  have  one  more 
happy  hour  after  all.  .  .  .  (He  leads  her  to  a  sofa  and 
takes  a  seat  on  a  chair  near  by.)  I  had  already  given  up 
every  hope  of  seeing  you  again.  I  have  tried  time  and 
again  to  find  you  in,  but  always  in  vain. 


164  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

I  have  hardly  been  at  home  the  whole  of  this  time. 
There  has  been  so  much  to  look  after  up  till  now. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  know  it — you  joined  the  staff  of  voluntary  hospital 
nurses.  And  when  I  found  that  out  I  began  to  have 
doubts  of  our  ever  meeting  again. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
But  why  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  knew  that  you  would  come  under  the  influence  of  very 
deep  impressions  during  all  this.  First  in  the  ambulances 
and  later  at  the  hospital.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

O,  it  was  dreadful !  The  unhappy  creatures !  I  had 
never  imagined  the  possibility  of  such  misery!  Many 
times  I  felt  myself  growing  faint.  But  the  only  thing  to 
do  was  to  pull  myself  together  and  not  think  of  anything 
else  than  that  help  was  needed.  And  then  one  can  con- 
quer one's  weakness. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  was  not  that  that  made  me  anxious — I  was  not  afraid 
you  could  not  hold  out.  What  I  feared  was  that  contact 


ACT  in  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  165 

with  all  that  wretchedness  would  influence  your  feelings 
for  me.  For,  of  course,  I  am  the  one  that  must  bear  the 
responsibility  of  it. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Oh,  yes,  but  that  is  another  question.  I  do  not  think 
that  those  two  things  have  anything  to  do  with  each  other 
— at  least,  if  they  have,  it  is  only  externally.  For  you  did 
not  act  as  you  did  for  the  sake  of  the  evil  results. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Then  you  do  not  detest  me  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

I  would  not  have  you  otherwise  than  you  are  f<-r  any 
price. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Not  even  if  all  of  these  human  lives  could  have  been 
spared  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

No,  not  at  that  price,  either.  .  .  .  But  you  yourself  ? 
You  speak  of  the  human  lives  that  have  been  lost — does 
that  weigh  on  your  conscience  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Since  you  ask  me — no.  The  thought  of  the  dead  does 
not  affect  me. 


166  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  ACT  in 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Oh,  how  glad  I  am  to  hear  you  say  that !  I  should  have 
been  so  deeply  disappointed  if  you  had  begun  to  regret. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  regret  only  one  thing — that  I  did  not  go  about  things 
more  thoroughly.  It  was  not  that  too  many  were  sac- 
rificed but  too  few. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Could  it  have  been  necessary  to  deal  still  more  harshly 
with  the  poor  workmen  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  am  not  referring  to  the  workmen — I  mastered  them. 
No,  it  was  those  higher  up  that  I  did  not  make  suffer 
sufficiently.  I  thought  the  strike  and  the  bombs  had 
softened  them  enough.  But  they  needed  still  more — I 
discovered  that  too  late.  If  I  had  only  arranged  things 
so  that  a  few  hundreds  of  their  mighty  men  had  disap- 
peared in  the  general  wash-up.  That  would  have  fright- 
ened the  life  out  of  Parliament  and  I  could  have  juggled 
with  them  as  I  would.  .  .  .  But  things  turned  out  dif- 
ferently. I  held  a  wolf  by  his  ears  and  imagined  he  was 
tamed.  But  before  I  could  think  the  beast  cast  himself 
upon  me. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes,  it  is  shameful,  the  way  they  are  attacking  you 
from  all  quarters.  People  who  were  your  admirers,  who 


ACTHI  ROBERT    FRANK  167 

boasted  of  being  intimate  with  you.  ...  I  met  Mr.  Pre- 
torius  down  in  the  vestibule.  He  bowed  to  me,  but  I 
pretended  not  to  see  him.  I  could  have  struck  him  in  the 
face.  What  a  repulsive  face  he  has  !  I  hate  him  ! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  let  us  not  find  fault  with  Pretorius  and  the  others. 
I  have  myself  to  thank  for  their  having  rebelled  against 
me.  I  miscalculated  in  regard  to  one  important  factor, 
and  the  defection  of  my  adherents  is  no  more  than  the 
wages  I  deserve. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

You  are  unjust  to  yourself.  Miscalculated,  you  say — 
but  you  must  not  forget  that  you  had  already  triumphed, 
that  you  stood  there  the  conqueror.  It  was  chance,  stu- 
pid chance  that  caused  things  to  take  a  different  turn 
afterward.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  ought  not  to  have  arranged  matters  in  such  a  way  that 
stupid  chance  should  be  able  to  pull  down  my  entire  build- 
ing. .  .  .  But  it  is  useless  to  brood  over  a  thing  that  has 
been  neglected.  The  failure  is  a  fact  and  I  shall  have  to 
come  to  terms  with  it. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

And  this  failure,  as  you  call  it — do  you  feel  it  very 
deeply  ? 


168  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Of  course,  I  think  it  is  a  shame  that  such  a  favorable 
chance  was  wasted.  It  is  not  every  day  that  there  comes 
an  opportunity  of  reconstructing  society  in  the  image  of 
reason. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes,  it  is  a  sin  and  shame  that  you  did  not  get  to  carry 
out  your  splendid  idea.  But  it  is  just  so  much  the  worse 
for  this  irrational  society.  You  are  no  less  great  on  ac- 
count of  it.  Such  external  things  as  success  and  failure 
do  not  change  one's  inner  value.  But,  of  course,  I  do  not 
need  to  say  that  to  you.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  the  unsuccessful  man  likes  to  say  that  to  himself. 
But,  of  course,  he  prefers  to  hear  it  from  others,  for  that 
makes  the  grounds  for  consolation  seem  a  little  more 
convincing. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Now  you  are  ironical.  But  I  am  only  rejoiced  at  that, 
because  then  I  know  that  you  have  not  allowed  yourself 
to  be  beaten.  That  is  what  I  thought,  too — a  man  like 
you  would  never  give  up.  ...  It  would  be  too  revolting, 
I  think,  if  your  enemies  were  allowed  to  say  the  last  word. 
You  must  punish  them,  crush  them — first  of  all  that  des- 
picable traitor  Pretorius.  .  .  .  You  will  go  into  politics 


ACT  in  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  169 

again,   will   you  not?    I  am  certain   you   will   become 
mightier  than  ever.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Everything  is  possible — even  that  I  should  rise  to  power 
once  more.  .  .  .  One's  future  gives  one  no  concern  so 
long  as  there  is  a  star  to  brighten  one's  path. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes,  but  then  I  am  afraid  you  must  choose  another 
star.  For  the  one  you  called  so  has  not  brought  you  luck, 
unfortunately. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Who  knows  but  that  what  now  looks  like  adversity  may 
become  good  fortune  ?  .  .  .  And  besides — does  one  choose 
his  own  star?  .  .  .  No,  you  will  always  continue  to  be 
Stella  for  me,  even  though  you  may  refuse  to  be  called  so 
any  more. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes,  I  shall  be  called  Stella  for  now  and  always.  But 
not  because  I  deserve  the  name. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Then  why  will  you  use  it  ?  Now,  you  must  answer — 
you  promised  me  when  I  saw  you  last  that  you  would. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
No,  I  said  that  you  must  guess. 


170  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

And  I  said  that  I  did  not  dare.  I  beg  and  implore  you 
— do  not  keep  me  longer  in  suspense. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Since  you  beg  and  implore,  of  course  I  shall  have  to 
comply.  .  .  .  Why  I  want  to  use  this  name?  Why,  I 
want  to  because  .  .  .  No,  I  cannot  tell  you. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Now,  you  must  tell  me. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
I  will  use  it  because  it  is  you  that  gave  it  to  me. 

ROBERT  FRANK  (rises). 
Stella!  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON  (rises  also). 

Yes,  now  I  have  said  it.  ...  But  did  you  not 
know?  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Oh,  Stella !  .  .  .  (He  draws  her  to  him  and  throws  his 
arms  about  her.  They  disengage  from  the  embrace.  Hold- 
ing each  other's  hands,  they  gaze  at  each  other.) 

JULIA  CAMERON  (smiles). 

So  I  was  the  first  of  us  two  to  betray  the  secret.  I  would 
never  have  believed  that  any  power  could  have  forced  me 
to  do  so. 


ACT  in          R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  171 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Oh,  Stella,  if  you  knew!  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

What  is  the  matter?  Why,  you  are  quite  white !  And 
you  are  trembling.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  is  nothing.  A  moment's  dizziness.  It  is  passing 
already. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Perhaps  it  is  the  heat  of  the  room.  It  is  too  warm  here. 
I  think  I  will  take  off  my  wrap.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

May  I  assist  you  ?  .  .  .  (He  tries  to  help  her  take  off  her 
coat.) 

JULIA  CAMERON  (smiles). 

You  are  so  amusing — the  way  you  do  that.  You  cer- 
tainly have  not  had  much  practice  in  dancing  attendance 
on  a  woman.  But  a  man  like  you  ought  not  to  be  so, 
either.  That  is  exactly  the  way  I  would  have  you — so 
beautifully  awkward.  .  .  .  Thanks,  I  will  take  off  my 
hat  myself — that  is  too  sacred  a  thing  for  you  to  be 
allowed  to  touch.  My  aunt  says  that  for  women  the  hat 
is  of  much  more  importance  than  the  head.  (They  sit 
down  on  the  sofa;  he  puts  his  arm  around  her.) 


172  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

How  inconceivable  that  we  should  sit  here  so  near  each 
other  and  you  should  call  me  Stella  and  I  have  the  cour- 
age to  call  you  Robert!  I  have  called  you  that  for  a  long 
time  to  myself — you  should  only  know  how  often,  I  have 
whispered  your  Christian  name.  But  now  I  can  say  it 
aloud  to  you.  I  am  the  only  one  who  is  allowed  to.  No 
one  else  but  me  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  no  one  but  you. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

But  before  you  knew  me  ?  ...  There  have  been  others 
before  me.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
You  are  my  first  and  only  love. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

But  is  it  not  always  so  with  every  love — that  one 
imagines  each  one  is  the  first  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  have  had  no  such  experiences.  Of  course,  I  have  had 
infatuations,  but  I  have  never  loved  before  now.  I  loved 
you  from  the  first  moment  you  appeared. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

It  was  the  same  with  me.  And  do  you  know  what 
charmed  me  instantly?  It  was  the  indescribable  way  in 


ACT  in  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  173 

which  you  smile.  Do  you  remember,  Robert,  when  my 
aunt  betrayed  to  you  that  your  smile  had  made  an  im- 
pression on  me?  I  was  so  ashamed  I  wanted  to  sink 
into  the  earth,  for  I  had  such  deadly  respect  for  you. 
.  .  .  Did  you  not  notice  how  confused  I  was  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  I  was  so  overwhelmed  myself  at  this  first  meeting 
that  I  had  all  I  could  do  to  preserve  my  own  equilibrium. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

And  fancy,  I  thought  you  stood  there  as  unmoved  as  a 
bronze  statue.  And  I — I  felt  like  a  little  trembling  bird. 
And  as  you  talked  to  me,  it  was  as  though  I  fell  deeper 
and  deeper  into  your  net.  Did  you  not  notice  that,  either  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  I  assure  you  I  did  not  suspect  that  what  I  said  had 
such  a  powerful  effect  on  you. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

It  was  not  only  what  you  said  but  that  it  was  you  who 
said  it.  I  had  never  experienced  anything  like  it.  But 
then,  when  you  went  away  and  I  was  left  alone,  I  re- 
solved that  I  would  free  myself  from  this  enchantment. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

That  was  the  reason,  then,  that  such  a  long  time  passed 
before  you  allowed  me  to  see  you.  And  when  we  did  meet 
the  next  time,  you  had  armed  yourself  against  me. 


174  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  in 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes,  I  disagreed  with  you  at  first.  I  thought  I  ought 
to  defend  my  poor  little  creed.  But  deep  down  in  me 
I  was  only  longing  to  be  vanquished  again.  .  .  .  Oh, 
Robert,  Robert,  this  blessed  self-abandonment !  .  .  . 
(She  throws  herself  in  his  arms.  Short  silence.) 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Look  at  me,  Stella! 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

What  is  it,  Robert?  You  have  suddenly  become  so 
serious.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

There  is  something  I  want  to  ask  you,  and  which  you 
must  answer  quite  sincerely.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Only  ask,  Robert! 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Tell  me  one  thing — during  the  time  when  you  were 
avoiding  me,  was  there  not  another  man  ?  One  who  was 
on  the  point  of  capturing  your  fancy — so  much  so  that  he 
almost  took  you  from  me  ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
No;  how  can  you  think  such  a  thing? 


ACT  m          ROBERT    FRANK  175 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  was  you  yourself  who  awakened  the  suspicion  in  my 
mind.  You  referred  to  a  certain  person  with  noticeable 
warmth.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Now  I  understand  whom  you  mean.  Yes,  I  could  not 
help  teasing  you  a  little  about  Mr.  Levinski.  I  thought 
that  I  could  see  you  were  jealous,  and  so  I  wanted  to  make 
a  test  in  order  to  be  sure.  I  wanted  to  know  whether  you 
cared  for  me  or  not.  And  my  heart  throbbed  and  danced 
with  joy  when  I  succeeded  in  leading  you  where  I  would. 
.  .  .  Oh,  you  were  so  easy  to  deceive !  A  great  man  like 
you!  And  it  suited  you  so  charmingly.  I  could  have 
embraced  you  on  the  spot. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Why  shouldn't  I  have  allowed  myself  to  be  deceived  ? 
Levinski  is  by  no  means  an  ordinary  man.  In  addition, 
he  is  young  and  good-looking — I  am  neither.  And  you 
know  that,  as  a  rule,  women  are  not  unsusceptible  to 
those  advantages. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Will  you  stop  saying  such  nonsensical  things  to  me?  If 
you  do  not,  I  shall  pull  your  hair.  For  you  are  mine 
now,  and  I  may  do  with  you  as  I  will.  You  will  not  deny 
that,  will  you  ? 


176  R  O  B  E  R  T     F  R  A  N  K  ACT  in 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
No,  you  may  do  with  me  as  you  will,  Stella.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

You  say  that  so  absent-mindedly.  Are  you  still  think- 
ing of  my  little  coquetry?  It  was  very  innocent,  was  it 
not? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Of  course,  it  was.  .  .  .  No,  the  mistake  was  mine — 
that  I  continued  to  doubt.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

But  how  could  you  still  doubt  after  what  happened 
afterward?  For  I  showed  you  so  plainly  how  my  heart 
was  going  out  to  meet  yours. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Nevertheless,  it  left  a  sting.  I  did  not  feel  perfectly 
sure  of  you.  And,  led  by  that  uncertainty,  I  let  myself  be 
tempted  to  do  a  thing  which  ought  to  hav  been  left 
undone.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
In  what  way,  Robert  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Do  you  remember  saying,  Stella,  that  Levinski  ought  to 
become  a  martyr,  for  that  then  the  heroic  in  him  would 
come  to  the  surface  . 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  177 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes,  and  I  really  meant  it,  too.  He  would  have  shown 
off  splendidly  as  a  martyr.  However,  he  did  not  become 
one. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  he  did  not,  because  I  prevented  him.  I  did  not  want 
the  memory  of  him  to  haunt  your  imagination. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

It  would  never  have  done  that.  In  reality,  I  regard 
him  with  such  indifference. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Then  what  I  did  was  unnecessary  besides,  for  I  was 
thinking  of  you  when  I  pardoned  Levinski. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

You  were  thinking  of  me?  You  did  it  for  my  sake ! 
(She  throws  her  arms  about  his  neck.)  Oh,  Robert,  I  am  so 
happy,  so  happy !  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Are  you  happy  to  hear  that  I  have  been  guilty  of  ar- 
bitrariness ? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Yes,  why  not  ? — when  you  did  so  from  love.  .  .  . 


178  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  is  exactly  that  that  is  wrong.  I  ought  not  to  have 
mixed  love  and  politics. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

You  mean  that  it  was  unwise  to  pardon  him  because  it 
injured  you  politically? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  that  is  not  the  trouble.  It  made  no  difference  as 
far  as  that  was  concerned. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Well,  then,  I  do  not  think  it  is  a  thing  to  take  to  heart 
— when  it  had  no  consequences  at  all. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  is  not  only  the  consequences  that  count  but  also  the 
act  itself.  .  .  .  Everything  else  I  have  taken  upon  my- 
self does  not  worry  me,  for  in  those  things  I  acted  with 
no  other  motive  than  the  cause  itself.  But  this  with 
Levinski  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  cause,  and  therefore 
it  was  an  evil  thing. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

But,  Robert,  you  cannot  call  your  action  evil.  If  you 
had  sacrificed  a  human  creature  for  purely  personal  mo- 
tives, of  course,  thai  would  have  been  dreadful.  But  in 


ACT  in  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  179 

this   case    it   is   just    the   opposite — a   human    life   was 
saved.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

That  is  no  alleviating  circumstance.  One  ought  not  to 
help  save  a  creature  whom  the  logic  of  things  has  doomed 
to  destruction. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Is  it  so  wrong,  then,  to  violate  the  logic  of  things  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  it  is  just  about  as  wrong  as  to  make  bad  poetry. 
For  in  both  cases  one  sins  against  rhyme  and  rhythm. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

You  say  that  jokingly,  but  I  have  a  feeling  that  you  are 
taking  it  rather  seriously. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

And  it  is  a  pretty  serious  thing  to  disregard  consequence 
and  proportion  and  unity.  .  .  .  The  law  of  harmony  is 
really  the  only  one  that  should  never  be  offended.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

I  am  beginning  to  be  so  anxious,  Robert.  I  would  not 
for  anything  in  the  world  have  caused  you  to  do  a  thing 
you  need  to  regret. 


180  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Dismiss  your  anxiety,  Stella!  It  is  stupid  of  me  to 
trouble  you  with  these  useless  scruples.  But  it  is  doubt- 
less the  fault  of  the  darkness.  When  evening  draws  on, 
one  feels  melancholy  beginning  to  creep  in.  ...  (He 
rises.)  What  do  you  say,  Stella — shall  I  not  turn  on  the 
lights? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Oh,  no,  don't — it  is  not  quite  dark  yet.  And  it  is  so  de- 
licious to  be  together  in  the  twilight.  It  makes  things 
more  ultimate,  I  think — it  is  as  if  you  were  still  nearer  to 
me.  .  .  .  But  why  do  you  go  from  me,  Robert? 

ROBERT  FRANK  (stands  still  by  the  desk  and  gazes  at  her). 
Do  you  know,  Stella,  when  I  look  at  you  thus  from  a 
distance — as  you  sit  there  in  the  twilight  you  seem  more 
like  yourself  ?  Your  features,  your  silhouette  are  blurred, 
but  you  yourself  appear  more  distinct  to  me. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Am  I  not  always  like  myself,  then  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No  one  is  always  like  himself.  One's  true  picture  is 
only  seen  in  glimpses. 

JUUA  CAMERON. 
One's  true  picture  ?  .  .  . 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  181 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  mean  the  truth  that  reality  hides  from  us.  It  is  only 
at  odd  moments  that  we  comprehend  a  creature's  true 
meaning.  And  then  instantly  reality  comes  with  its  un- 
essentials  and  veils  the  impression.  .  .  .  Have  you  never 
experienced  that? 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

I  have  never  experienced  but  one  thing  with  you,  and 
that  is  that  the  more  I  have  seen  of  you  in  reality  the 
more  I  have  loved  you. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  must  not  think  that  I  love  you  less,  Stella,  because 
I  want  to  see  you  again  as  I  saw  you  the  first  time  our  eyes 
met.  You  do  not  know,  you  cannot  know,  what  it  is  that 
leads  me  to  conjure  forth  the  sight  once  more. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

You  said  that  you  felt  it  as  a  recognition — from  an- 
other existence.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Yes,  but  it  was  not  that  alone. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
What  else  was  it  ?     Can  you  not  tell  me,  Robert  ? 


182  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  in 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

It  is  difficult  to  explain.  .  .  .  When  I  looked  at  you, 
Stella,  and  you  looked  at  me — how  can  I  describe  what 
thrilled  me  at  that  moment  ?  It  was  like  a  flash  of  light- 
ning at  night,  a  sudden  revelation  of  a  mysterious  coher- 
ence, that  included  us  both.  I  had  a  vision  of  something 
great  and  obscure  that  you  were  bringing  me — it  seemed 
like  a  premonition  and  like  a  memory  as  well.  For  the 
unspeakable  that  was  to  be  had  already  been  consum- 
mated— I  caught  a  glimpse  of  it  in  that  eternity  that  has 
neither  past  nor  future.  .  .  .  (He  stops  and  gazes  at  her 
again.)  Stella — now  it  is  as  though  your  picture  were 
rising  before  me  as  at  that  time.  Your  face  is  so  wonder- 
fully pale,  your  eyes  so  supernaturally  dark.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON  (rises  and  goes  toward  him). 

No,  Robert,  there  is  nothing  supernatural  about  me,  and 
I  do  not  wish  to  be  loved  as  a  shadow-picture  only.  Must 
I  be  jealous  of  my  own  phantom  ?  Can  you  not  care  for 
me  such  as  I  am  ?  Does  my  unbounded  love  mean  noth- 
ing to  you  ?  My  love  for  you,  Robert,  as  you  are  in  flesh 
and  blood  and  not  as  a  picture  that  must  be  conjured 
forth  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  misapprehend  me,  Stella — it  is  certainly  not  only 
as  a  picture  that  I  love  you.  .  .  .  Do  you  not  know  that  I 
have  longed  for  your  bodily  apparition  hundreds  of  times, 


ACT  in          ROBERT    FRANK  183 

that  I  have  grown  faint  at  the  thought  of  daring  to  hold 
you  in  my  arms,  to  embrace  you,  to  press  you  to  me?  .  .  . 
(He  draws  her  passionately  to  him.) 

JULIA  CAMEKON  (hides  her  face  on  his  shoulder). 
Oh,  Robert !  .  .  .     (She  looks  up  at  him.)     But  tell  me, 
shall  I  be  able  to  be,  really  be,  something  to  you — some- 
thing more  than  a  fleeting  passion  ?  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

If  you  can !  You  are  all  and  everything  to  me;  you  are 
my  only  joy  on  this  God-forsaken  earth. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Is  that  true,  Robert  ?  .  .  .  Can  you  believe  it  ? — I  could 
almost  bless  Fate  for  the  adversity  it  has  brought  you.  I 
know  that  it  is  wrong  of  me,  but  it  is  so  tempting  to  im- 
agine that  I  may  perhaps  be  able  to  help  you.  Yes,  I 
only  mean,  help  you  drive  away  dark  thoughts. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

You  have  already  driven  them  away,  Stella — by  your 
words,  your  glance,  your  blessed  presence.  Your  love  is 
like  the  music  of  a  harp — it  makes  the  evil  spirits  flee. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Oh,  that  you  may  always  feel  thus,  Robert!  I  do  not 
know  anything  I  would  not  do  to  prevent  past  memories 
from  weighing  on  your  mind. 


184  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  in 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Memories — no,  they  have  already  floated  away  in  a  mist. 
.  .  .  The  failure  and  the  tribulations,  the  struggle,  the 
tumult,  and  the  blood  that  flowed — all  loom  up  far,  far 
away  in  a  golden  gleam. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
In  a  golden  gleam  ?  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Yes,  now  it  all  appears  to  me  as  if  it  were  a  time  of  secret 
promises  and  unconscious  preparation  for  a  feast — for 
was  it  not  the  path  and  the  entrance  to  my  new-found 
Paradise  ?  What  else  can  the  past  mean  to  me  now  ?  .  .  . 
You  and  I  here  in  the  twilight  and  in  the  silence  about  us 
— is  it  not  as  if  the  whole  world  were  obliterated,  as  if  we 
were  wandering  in  a  dreamland  with  deep  woods  about 
us — no  one  but  us  two,  us  two  alone  ?  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON  (presses  close  to  him). 
We  two  alone !  .  .  .    Robert,  this  happiness — how  trem- 
ulous, how  wonderful !  .  .  . 

( Their  lips  meet  in  a  long  kiss.  Some  one  is  heard  out- 
side fumbling  with  the  door.  They  draw  away  from  each 
other.  LEVINSKI  comes  in;  he  is  wasted  and  hollow-eyed. 
Short  pause.) 

LEVINSKI. 

I  come  unannounced.  But  I  attach  little  importance 
to  formalities. 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  185 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
So  it  seems.  .  .  .     May  I  ask  what  you  wish  of  me  ? 

LEVINSKI. 
I  have  come  to  demand  an  explanation  from  you. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Indeed.  But  it  is  rather  inconvenient  just  now.  As 
you  see,  I  have  a  visitor. 

LEVINSKI. 

I  am  willing  for  Miss  Cameron  to  hear  what  I  have  to 
say  to  you.  And  I  shall  express  myself  to  the  point. 
But  I  must  talk  with  you  now.  I  cannot  postpone  it. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Well,  if  you  absolutely  will  .  .  . 

LEVINSKI. 

One  question,  to  begin  with.  You  have  "pardoned" 
me,  as  people  call  it.  But  I  do  not  thank  you  for  it.  For 
do  you  not  think  yourself  that  I  had  earned  a  right  to 
share  the  fate  of  my  comrades  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
Yes,  you  undeniably  had. 

LEVINSKI. 

You  acknowledge  it,  then.  But,  nevertheless,  you 
cheated  me  of  this  right.  It  was  given  to  the  others  to  suf- 


186  R  O  B  E  R  T    F  R  A  N  K  ACT  in 

fer  for  their  cause — I  alone  was  excluded  from  the  glory  of 
martyrdom.  I  had  no  suspicion  of  it  as  long  as  I  was  in 
prison.  Not  till  after  I  was  liberated  did  I  learn  the  over- 
whelming truth.  They  asked  me  what  it  meant,  and  I 
could  not  reply.  From  that  moment  I  was  branded  as  a 
traitor.  Everywhere  I  went  I  saw  backs  turned  upon  me, 
shrugs  of  contempt,  eyes  full  of  hate.  I,  whom  the  la- 
borers had  once  hailed  as  a  Messiah,  have  now  become  a 
Judas,  who  sinks  under  their  curses.  This  is  your  work, 
Robert  Frank.  But  now  you  shall  answer  for  it. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Mr.  Levinski,  what  you  say  pains  me  very  much — for  I 
am  afraid  that  it  is  I  who  am  the  cause  of  the  whole  thing. 

LEVINSKI. 

You,  Miss  Cameron?  How  could  you  have  any  share 
in  this?  ...  It  cannot  be  that  you  interceded  for  me 
and  that  that  determined  the  issue.  If  so,  then  you  have 
acted  toward  me  worse  than  my  bitterest  enemy. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

No,  it  was  not  as  you  think — it  happened  in  quite  an- 
other way.  .  .  .  No,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  explain 
it.  ... 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Miss  Cameron  did  not  even  know  that  I  intended  to 
pardon  you.  No  one  but  myself  is  responsible  for  it. 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  187 

LEVINSKI. 

But  the  reason  for  your  doing  it — I  will  know  the 
reason.  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
I  cannot  inform  you  in  regard  to  that. 

LEVINSKI. 

You  have  ruined  my  life,  but  you  will  not  tell  me  why. 
It  seems  to  me  that  I  have  a  right  to  demand  so  much. 
But  I  dare  say  your  motive  was  of  such  a  nature  that  even 
a  man  of  your  calibre  would  not  care  to  confess  it. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
You  may  think  as  you  please  about  that. 

LEVINSKI. 

I  think  no  longer,  for  now  I  have  certainty.  I  have  dis- 
covered your  object. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
I  have  great  doubts  of  that. 

LEVINSKI. 

Shall  I  tell  you  what  was  behind  it  all  ?  You  wanted  to 
strike  a  blow  at  the  entire  labor  movement  through  me, 
who  was  its  leader.  My  ignominy  was  to  recoil  upon  the 
cause  itself.  And  the  laborers  were  to  be  filled  with  dis- 
gust and  distrust.  And  thus  would  their  revolutionary 


188  ROBERT     FRANK  ACT  in 

will  and  powers  be  killed  for  a  long  time  to  come.  .  .  . 
What  you  had  in  mind  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  a 
poisoning  of  souls. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

The  motive  you  attribute  to  me  sounds  rather  plausi- 
ble. But,  nevertheless,  you  are  on  the  wrong  track. 

LEVINSKI. 

Why  should  you  scruple  to  poison  souls,  you,  who  did 
not  shrink  from  all  that  other  massacre.  Perhaps  you  will 
be  kind  enough  to  tell  me  whether  there  exists  a  crime  too 
great  for  you  to  consider  it  permissible  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

My  good  Mr.  Levinski,  this  question  is  not  so  easy  to 
answer.  Whether  a  great  crime  be  permissible  or  not  de- 
pends on  the  motives  and  the  man  himself — whether  he 
is  equal  to  his  crime,  whether  or  not  he  has  the  proper 
dimensions. 

LEVINSKI. 

And,  of  course,  yffu  have  the  proper  dimensions  and  that 
is  why  you  trample  all  human  considerations  under  foot. 
What  are  human  beings  to  you  ?  Not  fellow  creatures 
but  only  material  to  be  used  in  the  execution  of  your 
plans.  It  is  clear  that  you  have  wished  to  float  over  so- 
ciety as  a  sort  of  Providence,  to  play  the  rdle  of  earthly 
Lord  God.  But  has  it  never  occurred  to  you  in  your 


ACT  in  ROBERT    FRANK  189 

blind  arrogance  that  one  day  another  man  might  appear, 
one  who  had  both  the  desire  and  the  dimensions  to  act 
Providence  and  Lord  God  toward  ypu  yourself?  .  .  . 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

Let  us  have  no  digressions  but  keep  to  the  point.  It 
is  probably  for  the  sake  of  your  own  affairs,  not  mine,  that 
you  have  come  here.  You  have  been  so  unfortunate  as 
to  be  placed  in  a  false  light  and  you  now  want  to  put  an 
end  to  this  situation.  This,  I  presume,  is  the  meaning  of 
your  visit. 

LEVINSKI. 

Yes,  I  will  have  an  end  to  it,  for  this  existence  is  un- 
bearable. I  would  have  come  to  you  before  now  but  I 
have  been  dangerously  ill.  And  more  than  once  did  I 
call  upon  death  as  my  saviour,  and  when  it  would  not  come 
to  me  I  thought  of  suicide.  But  I  saw  that  it  was  neces- 
sary for  me  to  live  on  in  order  to  re-establish  my  honor. 
And  you,  Robert  Frank,  you  who  brought  about  my  down- 
fall, shall  be  the  one  to  help  lift  me  up  again. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Yes,  can  you  not  do  that,  Robert?  You  must  really 
repair  this  injury.  I  implore  you  to  do  so.  ... 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

I  have  no  objections  to  sending  out  a  printed  declara- 
tion if  that  will  satisfy  you. 


190  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

LEVINSKI. 

% 
And  what  would  this  declaration  say  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

That  you  have  neither  said  nor  done  anything  in  order 
to  obtain  pardon — that  in  so  far  you  are  without  blame. 

LEVINSKI. 

That  will  only  be  looked  upon  as  another  good  turn 
you  do  me  as  reward  for  the  betrayal.  People  will  con- 
tinue to  ask,  why,  then,  was  I  liberated  ? — unless  you  will 
give  a  frank  confession  of  the  real  reason.  But  I  see  you 
do  not  wish  to  come  with  the  real  reason. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 

No,  that  I  shall  keep  to  myself.  The  public  Jias  noth- 
ing to  do  with  it. 

LEVINSKI. 
Is  this  your  last  word  ? 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
My  last  word  on  this  subject. 

LEVINSKI. 
Good !    Then  you  will  have  to  help  me  in  another  way. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
I  do  not  see  exactly  how  that  can  be  done. 


ACT  ni          ROBERT    FRANK  191 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

But  could  you  not  think  the  matter  over,  Robert  ?    For 
'   I  am  sure  you  would  find  a  way  out. 

ROBERT  FRANK. 
I  shall  see  if  it  is  possible.     But  I  doubt  it. 

LEVINSKI. 

Do  not  trouble  yourself.  I  have  discovered  a  way. 
You  can  help  me  and  that  in  a  way  which  will  make  it  as 
clear  as  day  to  one  and  all  that  there  never  has  been  any 
compact  between  you  and  me. 

ROBERT  FRANK  (after  a  moment's  silence'). 
Perhaps  you  are  right.     But  I  do  not  think  we  should 
discuss  this  question  in  the  presence  of  Miss  Cameron. 
We  can  talk  together  later.     To-morrow  if  you  will. 

LEVINSKI. 

No,  to-morrow  we  shall  not  talk  together.  .  .  .  For 
there  will  be  no  to-morrow  for  you,  Robert  Frank.  .  .  . 

(He  draws  a  revolver  and  fires  a  shot.  ROBERT  FRANK 
puts  his  hand  to  his  breast  and  staggers.  JULIA  CAMERON 
tries  to  wrench  the  weapon  from  LEVINSKI'S  hand.  He 
hurls  her  from  him  and  fires  still  another  shot,  then  a  third 
and  a  fourth.  ROBERT  FRANK  falls  to  the  ground  and  lies 
there  motionless.) 


192  ROBERT    FRANK  ACT  m 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

(Throws  herself  down  beside  ROBERT  FRANK'S  body.) 
Robert !  Robert !  .  .  .  For  Heaven's  sake,  can't  you 
answer  me?  .  .  . 

LEVINSKI  (stares  down  at  them). 
He  moves  no  longer.  .  .  . 

JULIA  CAMERON. 

Robert!  Robert!  Merciful  God,  he  is  dead,  he  is 
dead!  .  .  . 

LEVINSKI. 
Justice — no  more  than  justice. 

JULIA  CAMERON. 
Dead  .  .  .  dead!  .  .  . 

LEVINSKI  (with  a  wide  tweep  of  the  arm). 
Sic  temper  tyranni*! 


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